A  DOUBLE  THREAD 


BY  ELLEN  THORNEYCROFT  FOWLER. 

Concerning  Isabel   Carnaby. 

iamo,  cloth,  $1.00;  paper,  50  cents. 

"  This  is  a  most  enlivening  book.  It  positively  spar- 
kles with  good  things.  It  is  gay  and  clever  and  bright, 
brimful  of  wise  and  witty  sayings." — New  York  Bookman. 

"  Rarely  does  one  find  such  a  charming  combination  of 
wit  and  tenderness,  of  brilliancy  and  reverence  for  the 
things  that  matter,  as  is  concealed  within  the  covers  of 
'Concerning  Isabel  Carnaby.'  It  is  bright  without  being 
flippant,  tender  without  being  mawkish,  and  as  joyous  and 
as  wholesome  as  sunshine.  The  characters  are  closely 
studied  and  clearly  limned,  and  they  are  created  by  one 
who  knows  human  nature.  ...  It  would  be  hard  to  find 
its  superior  for  all-around  excellence.  ...  No  one  who 
reads  it  will  regret  it  or  forget  it." — Chicago  Tribune. 

"  For  brilliant  conversations,  bits  of  philosophy,  keen- 
ness of  wit,  and  full  insight  into  human  nature,  '  Concern- 
ing Isabel  Carnaby '  is  a  remarkable  success." — Boston 
Transcript. 

"  Miss  Fowler  has  achieved  a  success  as  thoroughly 
gratifying  to  her  readers  as  it  must  be  to  herself.  .  .  .  The 
book  positively  radiates  humor.  .  .  .  Epigram,  paradox, 
anecdote  —in  short,  all  the  weapons  in  the  born  conversa- 
tionalist's armory — appear  in  this  entertaining  novel  in  a 
state  of  the  highest  polish,  and  the  dialogues  alone  would 
make  the  fortune  of  the  story." — London  Speaker. 

"  A  book  with  a  great  deal  of  fresh  and  interesting  ob- 
servation in  it ;  the  leading  characters  are  really  studied, 
and  the  detail  is  obviously  from  life.  Miss  Fowler  has 
sympathy  and  understanding,  and  her  range  is  a  wide  one. 
She  can  describe  a  Nonconformist  circle  in  the  provinces, 
and  pass  from  that  to  society  and  politics  in  London,  or 
house  parties  in  the  country,  and  seem  equally  at  home  in 
all  of  them.  She  writes  without  malice,  yet  with  shrewd- 
ness and  humor." — Westminster  Gazette. 

D.  APPLETON   AND  COMPANY,  NEW  YORK. 


A    DOUBLE 
THREAD 


BY     ELLEN      THORNEYCROFT 

FOWLER,     AUTHOR     OF 

CONCERNING    ISABEL 

CARNABY,   ETC. 


NEW   YORK 
D.   APPLETON    AND   COMPANY 

1899 


COPYRIGHT,  1899, 
BY  D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY. 


DEDICATION. 

IF,  in  the  circle  of  my  friends,  there  be 
One  who  will  take  this  volume,  writ  by  me, 

And  not  on  all  its  imperfections  look, 
But  rather  see  the  pathos  and  the  wit 
Which  I  have  tried,  yet  failed,  to  put  in  it — 

To  her  (or  him)  I  dedicate  my  book. 


2045725 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PACK 

I.— THE  BEAUTIFUL  Miss  HARLAND  i 

II.— THE  WELFORDS 19 

III. — THE  WELFORDS'  PARTY 36 

IV.— JACK  LE  MESURIER 55 

V.— BEFORE  EASTER 69 

VI.— GREYSTONE 82 

VII.— THE  PINK  DIAMOND 98 

VIII. — SlLVERHAMPTON "3 

IX.— THE  USES  OF  GOSSIP 125 

X.— THE  EASTER  HOLIDAYS 141 

XI.— EASTBOURNE 152 

XII. — JACK'S  CONFESSION 167 

XIII.— WHAT  ELFRIDA  SAID 189 

XIV.— ETHEL'S  GIFT 212 

XV.— SUSPICION 229 

XVI.— PERCY  WELFORD 252 

XVII.— JACK'S  APPEAL 270 

XVIII.— GUILTY  OR  NOT  GUILTY? 285 

XIX.— PHILIP  CARTWRIGHT'S  STORY        .        .        .        .306 

XX— ELFRIDA  AT  GREYSTCNE 324 

XXL— SIR  ROGER 345 

XXII.— JACK'S  RETURN 3&3 

XXIII.— ROBBEN  ISLAND 381 

XXIV.— CONCLUSION 403 

vii 


A   DOUBLE  THREAD. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE   BEAUTIFUL   MISS    HARLAND. 

"  For  you  were  poor,  you  will  allow, 

And  I  was  not,  that  dull  December 
When  first  we  met.     I  wonder  now 
If  you  remember." 

"  DON'T  be  so  cynical,  my  dear  Elfrida,"  said 
Lady  Silverhampton ;  "it  is  a  fatal  mistake  for  a 
woman  not  to  believe  in  things." 

"  But  if  I  don't  believe  in  things  it  is  no  use  pre- 
tending that  I  do,"  replied  Miss  Harland. 

"  Oh  yes,  it  is,  the  greatest  use  in  the  world.  Pre- 
tending that  you've  got  a  virtue  is  as  good  as  having 
a  virtue — at  least  so  Shakespeare  said,  and  he  was 
supposed  to  be  a  very  clever  person." 

"  Pardon  me,  dear  lady,  he  didn't  quite  say  that," 
corrected  Lord  Stonebridge. 

"  Well,  if  he  didn't  he  said  something  like  it, 
which  comes  to  the  same  thing.  Don't  be  accurate, 
Stonebridge ;  it  is  the  one  unpardonable  defect.  If 
you  don't  take  care  you'll  grow  like  the  accurate  wit- 
ness who  stated  that  '  the  prisoner  at  the  bar  said, 
My  dear  Thomas,  or  words  to  that  effect.'  " 

"  I  should  say  inaccuracy,  rather,  is  an  unpardon- 
able defect,"  Lord*  Stonebridge  argued. 


2  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  Then  you  are  quite  out  of  it ;  accuracy  is  an  un- 
pardonable defect,  and  inaccuracy  is  an  incurable  dis- 
ease. Therefore  you  should  pity  the  latter  while  you 
blame  the  former.  You  are  really  very  ignorant  for 
a  man  of  your  age,  Stonebridge !  " 

"  I  own  the  soft  impeachment,  and  look  to  your 
ladyship  to  cure  it." 

"  Oh  !  I'll  cure  it  in  time,  but  I  can't  attend  to  you 
now.  I  am  curing  Elfrida's  faults  at  the  present  mo- 
ment— don't  you  see? — and  teaching  her  not  to  be 
cynical,  but  to  believe  in  things.  Why,  if  I'd  ever 
had  a  daughter  I'd  have  taught  her  to  believe  in 
everything,  from  popular  preachers  down  to  patent 
pills." 

"  She  couldn't  have  done  it,"  cried  Lord  Stone- 
bridge  ;  "  believe  me  she  couldn't  have  done  it,  if 
she'd  had  her  mother's  brains !  The  pills,  perhaps, 
she  might  have  swallowed ;  but  the  former  part  of 
the  programme !  " 

Lady  Silverhampton  nodded  her  head  decidedly. 
"  She'd  have  had  to  do  what  I  told  her,  like  Silver- 
hampton has  to." 

Miss  Harland  laughed.  "  But  you've  never  made 
Lord  Silverhampton  believe  in  things !  " 

"  I've  never  tried ;  but  if  I'd  meant  him  to,  he'd 
have  believed  fast  enough." 

"  It  is  never  difficult  to  a  man  to  believe  in 
things,"  remarked  Elfrida  Harland ;  "  they  all  begin 
by  believing  in  themselves,  and  that  presupposes  no 
mean  stock  of  credulity." 

"  But  we  are  not  all  so  proficient  as  to  go  on  to 
the  next  step,  which  is  believing  in  you,"  said  Lord 
Stonebridge. 

"  A  man  who  believes  in  himself  only  takes  a 
pass  degree,"  replied  Elfrida ;  "  but  a  man  who 


THE   BEAUTIFUL   MISS   HARLAND.  3 

tries  to  believe  in  a  woman  is  reading  for  hon- 
ours." 

"  And  not  for  peace  with  honours,"  Lord  Stone- 
bridge  added. 

Lady  Silverhampton  looked  critically  at  Elfrida 
as  if  she  were  measuring  her  for  a  new  gown.  "  The 
best  thing  for  you  would  be  to  fall  in  love,"  she  said 
slowly ;  "  hopelessly  and  horribly  and  irretrievably  in 
love.  That  is  the  only  cure  I  can  see  for  this  silly 
cynicism  that  is  creeping  upon  you,  and  which,  as  I 
have  told  you,  is  fatal  to  any  woman,  especially  to  an 
unmarried  one." 

"  That  is  what  Arabella  Seeley  is  always  prescrib- 
ing for  me,  but — though  I  am  quite  willing  to  try  the 
cure — I  found  it  impossible  to  begin.  I  seem  to  have 
no  vocation  for  falling  in  love." 

"  Oh !  it  is  quite  easy  really.  I  fell  in  love  with 
Silverhampton  twenty  years  ago;  and  if  a  woman 
can  fall  in  love  with  Silverhampton  she  can  fall  in 
love  with  anybody." 

Miss  Harland  leaned  back  in  her  chair,  and  gazed 
lazily  at  her  hostess  through  half-closed  eyelids. 
"  Tell  us  how  you  managed  it ;  I  should  like  to 
know." 

"  It  was  perfectly  simple.  I  created  a  man  in  my 
own  imagination,  and  dressed  him  up  in  all  the  quali- 
ties that  I  most  admired,  and  called  him  Silverhamp- 
ton. He  wasn't  in  the  least  like  the  real  Silverhamp- 
ton, but  I  adored  him." 

Elfrida  nodded  approvingly.  "  That  was  very 
clever  of  you." 

"  It  wasn't  cleverness  at  all,  it  was  feminine  in- 
stinct :  the  same  instinct  which  makes  a  little  girl 
nurse  a  sofa  cushion  and  rock  it  to  sleep,  don't  you 
know?  I'm  not  at  all  a  clever  person,  but  I'm  simply 


4  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

bursting  with  feminine  instinct;  that  is  why  I  am 
such  a  success." 

"  And  that  is  why,  if  you  had  had  a  daughter,  you 
would  have  made  her  believe  in  things,"  Lord  Stone- 
bridge  said. 

"  Exactly ;  and  that  is  why  I  now  insist  on  El- 
frida's  falling  in  love.  It  is  the  one  thing  lacking  to 
complete  her  education." 

"  Then  begin  at  once,  and  I  will  do  all  in  my 
power  to  be  your  assistant  master,"  entreated  his 
lordship,  who,  with  Miss  Harland,  was  staying  from 
Saturday  until  Monday  at  Grasslands,  the  Silver- 
hamptons'  country  place. 

It  was  a  wet  December  afternoon.  Lord  Silver- 
hampton  had  not  yet  returned  from  hunting,  and  the 
others  had  decided  that  it  was  pleasanter  to  talk  in- 
doors round  the  fire  than  to  take  exercise  in  the 
dripping  woods  or  across  the  dreary  and  desolate 
park.  It  was  disagreeable  weather ;  but,  as  the  host- 
ess remarked,  "  Rain  is  always  better  than  snow ;  be- 
cause when  rain  is  over  it  is  over,  while  when  snow 
is  over  it  is  only  just  beginning." 

"  The  first  thing  in  falling  in  love  is  to  get  a  lay- 
figure  on  which  to  drape  all  the  virtues  you  happen 
to  fancy.  I  selected  Silverhampton ;  but  I  daresay 
a  score  of  other  men  would  have  done  quite  as  well  in 
the  beginning,  though  I'm  absolutely  devoted  to  him 
now.  How  do  you  think  Mr.  Stracey  would  do  for 
you  ?  "  asked  Lady  Silverhampton. 

"  My  dear  Evelyn,  think  of  his  collars !  " 

"  Pooh  !  they'll  take  off." 

"  No,  they  won't.  That  is  to  say,  the  spirit  which 
inspires  a  man  to  buy  the  wrong  sort  of  collars,  will 
go  on  inspiring  him  to  do  wrong  things  to  the  end 
of  the  chapter.  You  may  change  his  haberdasher; 


THE   BEAUTIFUL  MISS   HARLAND.  5 

but  you  cannot  change  his  nature.  A  husband  who 
committed  crimes,  I  might  love ;  but  a  husband  who 
made  mistakes,  I  should  assuredly  loathe." 

"  How  about  Captain  Lunn?  " 

"  He  has  a  vile  temper  which  he  mistakes  for  a 
conscience,  and  a  score  of  ignorant  prejudices  which 
he  misnames  principles.  He  also  believes  in  homoe- 
opathy." 

"  Then  there  is  Sir  Philip  Cay,"  persisted  the  in- 
defatigable Lady  Silverhampton. 

"  He  tells  the  same  story  at  least  three  times  in 
one  evening ;  and  at  least  three  times  in  one  evening 
does  he  leave  out  the  point.  No,  my  dearest  friend, 
if  you  cannot  find  me  something  better  than  these 
whereon  to  set  my  youthful  affections,  I  shall  never 
catch  a  glimpse  of  Dan  Cupid  while  the  world  stands. 
But,  all  the  same,  I  should  like  to  fall  in  love ;  I  think 
it  would  amuse  me,  and  so  few  things  do." 

"  It  is  certainly  amusing,"  interpolated  Lord 
Stonebridge. 

"  It  would  entertain  me  extremely,"  continued 
Miss  Harland  in  her  soft  drawl,  "  to  feel  my  heart 
beat  quickly  and  my  face  change  colour  at  the  ap- 
pearance of  one  particular  man.  I  assure  you,  I  envy 
my  own  scullery-maid  when  I  see  'her  fly  up  the  area- 
steps  on  a  Sunday  afternoon — her  cheeks  shining 
with  happiness  and  yellow  soap — to  meet  her  young 
man  at  the  end  of  the  street.  It  must  be  delightful 
to  care  for  a  man  so  much  that  one  would  even  wash 
one's  face  with  yellow  soap  to  please  him !  " 

"  It  has  its  advantages,"  femarked  Lady  Silver- 
hampton ;  "  given  that  one  has  an  adequate  stock  of 
yellow  soap — or  its  equivalent.  But  to  want  to 
please  a  man,  and  not  to  be  able  to  do  so,  must  be 
positively  sickening." 


6  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  I  should  never  want  to  please  a  man  that  I 
couldn't  please.  I  should  call  that  a  most  unwoman- 
ly desire." 

But  Lady  Silverhampton  was  not  attending.  She 
had  a  habit— ^when  other  people  were  speaking — of 
preparing  her  next  remark,  instead  of  listening  to 
theirs. 

"  There  is  one  thing  that  I  would  specially  im- 
press upon  you,"  she  said ;  "  and  that  is  never  to  pre- 
tend that  you  don't  care  for  a  man  when  you  really 
do.  Lots  of  girls  make  havoc  of  their  lives  in  this 
way.  They  call  it  proper  pride,  I  believe;  and,  as 
far  as  my  experience  goes,  people  with  proper  pride 
are  as  troublesome  to  deal  with  as  people  with  deli- 
cate digestions.  These  latter  always  ask  me  if  there 
is  sugar  in  the  salad,  or  pepper  in  the  sauces,  or  some 
fad  of  that  kind ;  as  if  I  knew  any  better  than  they 
did !  And  people  with  proper  pride  are  just  as  bad." 

Lord  Stonebridge  nodded  his  approval.  "  A  fool 
pretends  that  he  isn't  in  love  when  he  is ;  a  wise  man 
pretends  that  he  is  in  love  when  he  isn't." 

"  That  is  true,"  remarked  Elfrida ;  "  and  it  is  a 
good  thing  for  a  man  to  know  the  truth  about  him- 
self." 

"  But  it  isn't  a  good  thing  to  be  the  woman  who 
tells  it  to  him,"  added  Lady  Silverhampton. 

"  Doesn't  your  charming  ladyship  ever  tell  men 
the  truth  about  themselves?"  asked  Lord  Stone- 
bridge. 

"  Never,  unless  I'm  in  a  temper ;  and  then  for- 
tunately they  think  I  am  carried  away  by  impulse, 
?nd  don't  mean  what  I  say.  But  remember,  my  dear 
Elfrida,  that  if  you  want  to  be  a  successful  woman 
you  must  always  show  your  feelings  and  hide  your 
opinions.  That  is  my  advice ;  and  I've  lived  in  this 


THE   BEAUTIFUL   MISS   HARLAND.  7 

wicked  and  delightful  world  for  over  forty  years, 
and  know  it  well." 

"  Still,  it  is  the  instinct  of  English  people  to  hide 
their  feelings,"  said  Lord  Stonebridge. 

"  Yes ;  just  as  they  hide  their  uniforms  and  rib- 
bons if  they  can.  And  great  nonsense  it  all  is !  " 

"  Then  you  think  we  regard  our  hearts  as  deco- 
rations, and  are  ashamed  of  them  accordingly  ?  " 

"  Of  course  you  do ;  and  I've  no  patience  with 
you.  Now,  if  I  had  an  Order  I  should  invariably  put 
it  on  for  breakfast,  I  should  be  so  proud  of  it.  But 
Silverhampton  is  very  English,  and  treats  his  as  if  it 
were  a  disgraceful  family  secret." 

Lord  Stonebridge  smiled.  "  Then,  according  to 
your  ladyship,  Englishmen  hide  their  feelings  as 
carefully  as  they  hide  their  stars  ?  " 

"  Precisely ;  and  Englishwomen  hide  theirs  as 
carefully  as  they  hide  their  garters.  And  I've  no  pa- 
tience with  either  of  them." 

"  By  the  way,  is  anybody  else  coming  down  to 
Grasslands  for  the  Sunday?"  asked  Miss  Harland. 

"  Yes ;  the  Sunnydales  and  the  Wyvilles  and  the 
Laceys,  all  of  whom  you  know  by  heart.  And  a  man 
whom  you  haven't  met,  Captain  Le  Mesurier.  Do 
you  know,  I  am  getting  frightfully  fond  of  Augusta 
Sunnydale,  because  she  is  just  my  age  and  looks  ten 
years  older  ?  " 

"  How  nice  of  her,"  Elfrida  said ;  "  it  is  things 
such  as  this  which  endear  a  woman  to  her  fellows." 

"Who  is  Captain  Le  Mesurier?"  Lord  Stone- 
bridge  asked.  "  Is  he  one  of  the  Le  Mesuriers  of 
Greystone?  " 

"  Yes ;  he  is  a  nephew  of  Sir  Roger,  and  a  son 
of  the  brother  who  married  that  lovely  Miss  Stans- 
field  ages  ago,  and  then  died.  I  am  proud  to  say  I 


8  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

cannot  remember  her.  Jack  is  a  dear  boy ;  Silver- 
Hampton  and  I  met  him  when  we  were  in  India  two 
winters  ago.  He  is  on  the  Staff  Corps,  and  hasn't 
been  home  for  years  and  years ;  but  now  he  is  back 
on  a  twelve-months'  furlough." 

"  Is  he  as  good-looking  as  his  father  was  ?  " 

"  I  never  saw  his  father ;  but  Jack  is  one  of  the 
best-looking  boys  I  ever  met,  and  quite  the  nicest. 
There  is  the  front-door  bell,  which  means  that  Jack 
and  the  rest  of  the  party  have  arrived.  I  sent  to  meet 
them  at  the  four  o'clock  train." 

Further  conversation  was  prevented  by  the  ar- 
rival of  the  party  from  town.  Elfrida  knew  the 
others,  as  her  hostess  said,  by  heart ;  but  she  was  in- 
terested to  note  that  Captain  Le  Mesurier  was  a  tall, 
handsome  man,  well  under  thirty,  who  carried  him- 
self well  and  wore  the  right  sort  of  collars.  So  she 
decided  not  to  snub  him  more  than  she  could  help. 

Elfrida  Harland  was  the  granddaughter  and  sole 
heiress  of  an  extinct  Lord  Chancellor.  She  had 
everything  that  fortune  could  give  her,  and  conse- 
quently was  weary  of  her  life ;  which  seems  like  a 
paradox  but  is  really  a  platitude. 

The  late  Lord  Harland  was  the  first  and  only 
peer.  He  had  risen — via  the  Bar — from  nothing  to 
everything:  nothing  being  represented  by  the  pros- 
pects of  a  friendless  law-student  in  his  twenties ;  and 
everything  by  the  most  lucrative  practice  at  the  Bar, 
and  then  the  Great  Seal  in  his  sixties.  The  swarm- 
ing of  the  social  ladder  George  Harland  had  enjoyed 
immensely ;  the  seat  at  the  top  he  had  found  so  dull 
that  he  had  eventually  died  of  it,  and  had  repaired  to 
another  world  to  begin  the  upward  struggle  over 
again,  even  more  heavily  handicapped  than  he  was 
at  the  beginning  of  his  earthly  career.  He  had  never 


THE   BEAUTIFUL   MISS   HARLAND. 


9 


been  saintly  in  his  best  and  youngest  days ;  and  time 
and  circumstances  had  combined  to  set  his  affections 
still  more  securely  on  things  temporal.  His  success 
in  this  world  had  rendered  him  indifferent  to  the 
necessity  of  preparing  for  success  in  the  next :  later, 
probably,  he  found  out  his  mistake. 

Lord  Harland  had  devoted  himself  so  exclusively 
to  law  that  he  had  no  time  to  spare  for  love  or  for 
religion ;  so  he  compromised  with  the  former  by 
marrying  a  well-born  and  penniless  young  woman, 
who  spent  his  money  and  sneered  at  his  manners ; 
and  with  the  latter  by  leaving  five  thousand  pounds 
in  his  will  to  Queen  Anne's  Commissioners. 

He  had  one  child — a  son — who  unwisely  fell  in 
love  with,  and  married,  a  beautiful  actress,  the  daugh- 
ter of  a  music-master ;  and  then  died  abroad,  un- 
comforted  by  the  parental  forgiveness.  The  widow, 
poor  soul !  declined  to  survive  a  husband  whom  she 
had  adored,  and  expired  at  her  father's  house  a  few 
months  afterwards,  leaving  twin  daughters.  Then 
Lord  Harland  behaved,  as  he  thought,  generously. 
He  adopted  one  of  the  twins  on  condition  that  she 
should  be  cut  off  entirely  from  her  sister  and  her 
mother's  people,  and  never  hold  any  further  com- 
munication with  them ;  and  when,  nearly  twenty 
years  afterwards,  he  learnt,  to  his  regret,  that  he  was 
bound  for  a  bourne  whither  it  was  impossible  for  his 
fortune  to  follow  him,  he  left  the  whole  of  the  same 
to  this  granddaughter,  only  excepting  that  five  thou- 
sand pounds  which  he  had  reserved  as  a  sop — not  for 
Cerberus — but  for  whosoever  fulfils  the  duties  of 
Cerberus  in  Another  Place. 

Lady  Harland  predeceased  her  husband  by  two 
years:  she  died  from  the  combined  effects  of  ennui 
and  luxury.  Neither  alone  would  have  been  suffi- 


10  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

cient  to  kill  her,  but  she  could  not  stand  against  the 
allied  forces.  However,  she  lived  long  enough  to 
teach  her  granddaughter  all  the  things  she  consid- 
ered it  necessary  for  a  well-bred  woman  to  know ; 
namely,  the  Table  of  Precedence,  the  way  to  put  her 
clothes  on,  and  the  art  of  talking  charmingly  with- 
out saying  anything. 

Elfrida  lost  her  grandmother  when  she  was  nine- 
teen and  her  grandfather  when  she  was  twenty-one. 
Then  she  found  herself  one  of  the  richest  and  hand- 
somest women  in  London,  with  the  power  and  the 
means  to  do  whatsoever  took  her  fancy.  Neverthe- 
less she  was  not  happy.  She  had  much  admiration 
and  little  love — which  diet  is  to  the  human  soul  what 
much  stimulant  and  little  food  is  to  the  human  body. 
She  had  also  drunk  deeply  of  the  spirit  of  her  grand- 
parents' cynicism,  and  had  learnt  from  them  not  to 
put  much  faith  in  her  fellow-creatures.  In  fact  she 
did  not  believe  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  disin- 
terested affection ;  she  knew  that  her  face  attracted 
some  men  and  her  fortune  others,  and  she  nour- 
ished a  supreme  scorn  for  all  attachments  thus  in- 
spired. 

To  the  outward  eye  she  was  almost  perfection. 
She  was  neither  tall  nor  short,  but  a  comfortable 
"  three-quarter  size,"  which  made  women  look  short 
and  men  tall  beside  her.  Her  hair  was  golden, 
shaded  with  brown ;  and  her  eyes  were  the  colour  of 
wild  hyacinths.  She  was  essentially  what  women 
call  "  satisfactory  " — that  is  to  say,  she  was  faultlessly 
fashionable  and  scrupulously  neat,  and  had  the  in- 
definable air  of  being  dressed  by  a  first-class  maid 
and  doing  nothing  for  herself.  Perhaps  to  a  man's 
eye  she  was  almost  too  finished,  too  artificial — her 
hair  was  so  elaborately  curled  and  her  waist  so  ab- 


THE   BEAUTIFUL   MISS   HARLAND.  u 

normally  tiny ;  but  no  woman  ever  found  fault  with 
another  on  this  score. 

The  beautiful  Miss  Harland  lived  in  the  house 
which  her  grandfather  had  occupied  in  Mayfair,  and 
she  paid  Arabella  Seeley  a  handsome  salary  to  keep 
her  company  and  act  as  her  chaperon.  Arabella  was 
a  widow  of  unknown  age,  who  made  up  for  her  lack 
of  youth  by  extreme  archness.  She  was  a  kind- 
hearted  little  woman,  and  would  have  been  really  nice 
if  only  she  had  allowed  herself  to  grow  up ;  but  girl- 
ishness,  when  it  becomes  chronic,  is  an  irritating  mal- 
ady. She  was  the  type  of  person  who  would  sit  on 
the  floor  rather  than  on  a  chair,  and  who  adminis- 
tered to  her  friends  playful  little  slaps  out  of  sheer 
light-heartedness.  She  suffered  from  a  sentimental 
affliction  which  she  called  "  heart-hunger,"  and 
which,  she  said,  no  one  but  her  husband  had  ever 
satisfactorily  appeased ;  forgetting  that  the  late  Mr. 
Seeley  had  failed  to  deal  so  satisfactorily  with  hun- 
ger of  a  more  ordinary  kind.  But  Arabella  was 
one  of  the  women  who  retain  only  the  rose-col- 
oured rays  of  life ;  she  remembered  that  her  be- 
loved Albert  had  been  tall  and  fair  and  good- 
looking,  but  she  never  recalled  that  he  had  been 
idle  and  selfish  and  extravagant,  and  had  wasted 
the  whole  of  her  small  patrimony  and  left  her  pen- 
niless. 

"Are  you  fond  of  the  country?"  asked  Elfrida 
of  Captain  Le  Mesurier  in  the  drawing-room  after 
dinner. 

"  I  am  fond  of  everything  just  at  present ;  it  is 
all  so  new — and  so  old — after  seven  years  in  India. 
I  feel  I  want  a  sort  of  concentrated  essence  of  Eng- 
land before  I  can  get  enough  of  it." 

"  Then  everything  is  a  treat  to  you,  I  suppose, 


12  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

even  including  Shakespeare  at  the  Lyceum  and  a 
Sunday  in  the  country  ?  " 

"  Rather !  " 

Elfrida  sighed.  "  I  am  just  the  opposite  of  all 
that.  I  have  been  living  on  concentrated  essence  of 
England  for  the  last  seven  years,  and  the  conse- 
quence is  that  nothing  is  a  treat  to  me." 

"  I  am  an  old-fashioned  man,  I  admit ;  and  I  still 
regard  pleasure  as  a  recreation  rather  than  a  pro- 
fession." 

"  How  nice !  I  wish  I  were  old-fashioned  too ; 
but  unfortunately  I'm  so  modern  that  I  consider  the 
art  of  enjoying  oneself  is  as  much  a  lost  art  as  that 
of  staining  glass  or  building  cathedrals.  It  has  been 
superseded  by  the  science  of  amusing  oneself,  which 
is  by  no  means  the  same  thing." 

Captain  Le  Mesurier  looked  sympathetic.  "  That 
is  a  bore  for  you.  It  is  horrid  not  to  enjoy  things !  " 

"  But  so  few  things  are  worth  enjoying.  Take 
an  afternoon  party,  for  instance :  who  ever  enjoyed 
an  afternoon  party?  I  even  go  so  far  as  to  suggest 
that  afternoon  parties  should  be  administered  only 
under  chloroform.  Surely  a  Government  which  will 
not  allow  frogs  and  rabbits  to  be  vivisected  without 
an  anaesthetic,  ought  to  insist  upon  this  mitigation 
of  human  misery." 

"  Well,  afternoon  parties  are  a  little  slow,"  ad- 
mitted Jack  reluctantly ;  "  especially  when  you  are  a 
man  and  have  to  cart  the  food  about." 

"  Then  take  a  dinner  party.  It  bores  you  to  go, 
and  it  bores  your  hostess  still  more  to  ask  you. 
Wherein,  may  I  ask,  does  the  enjoyment  con- 
sist ?  " 

Captain  Le  Mesurier  tugged  at  his  moustache. 
"  Oh !  I  think  you  are  wrong  there — I  do  indeed. 


THE   BEAUTIFUL  MISS   HARLAND.  j^ 

One  may  have  a  pretty  girl  to  take  in ;  and,  if  not, 
there  is  always  the  dinner." 

"  But  how  about  the  pretty  girl  ?  Perhaps  she 
may  be  the  one  who  is  bored." 

Jack  was  silent  for  a  moment,  and  then  smiled. 
He  had  a  pleasant  smile,  the  sort  of  smile  that  makes 
women  think  that  other  women  don't  understand  a 
man.  "  No,  she  isn't  bored.  I  can  answer  for 
that." 

Elfrida  smiled  too.  "  You  have  plenty  of  self- 
confidence." 

"  No,  I  haven't  really ;  but  I  know  what  I  can 
do  and  what  I  can't.  Talking  to  a  woman  and  stick- 
ing on  to  a  horse  are  the  one,  and  everything  else  is 
the  other." 

"  Don't  you  mind  if  the  woman  and  the  horse 
have  tempers  ?  " 

"  I  prefer  it.  The  more  difficult  they  are  to  man- 
age the  more  I  enjoy  myself." 

"  I  don't  know  about  a  horse ;  but  certainly  the 
breaking-in  of  a  bad-tempered  woman  seems  to  me  to 
entail  far  more  trouble  than  it  is  worth,"  remarked 
Elfrida  with  her  most  blase  air. 

"  You  might  say  the  same  of  elephant-hunting  or 
of  tiger-shooting." 

"  Well,  and  what  should  you  say  ?  " 

Jack  laughed.  "  I  should  say  that  you  hadn't 
tried  them,  or  else  you  wouldn't  talk  such  nonsense, 
Miss  Harland." 

At  that  moment  Lady  Silverhampton  came  up  and 
joined  them.  "  You  can't  play  or  sing  or  anything, 
can  you,  Captain  Le  Mesurier?  Because,  if  you  can, 
I  shall  have  to  ask  you  to  do  so." 

"  No ;  I  can't  perform  any  parlour  tricks,  I  re- 
gret to  say." 


I4  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  What  a  comfort !  "  exclaimed  his  hostess,  sink- 
ing on  to  a  sofa.  "  I  can't  bear  having  people  here 
who  can  do  things ;  because  then  they  are  always 
wanting  to  do  them,  but  that  is  so  tiresome  for  every- 
body else.  Besides,  I  think  it  is  so  commonplace  to 
be  accomplished,  don't  you?  From  a  society  point 
of  view  it  is  better  to  murder  one's  mother-in-law 
than  to  play  the  piano  after  dinner." 

"  And  much  better  sport,  I  should  fancy,"  added 
Jack. 

"  You'd  have  said  so  if  you  had  known  the  Dow- 
ager Lady  Silverhampton  in  the  days  of  her  flesh.  If 
I  hadn't  had  the  temper  of  an  angel  that  old  woman 
would  never  have  died  peacefully  in  her  bed.  You 
can't  think  what  a  trial  she  was  to  me.  She  seemed 
to  think  that  I'd  somehow  infringed  her  copyright, 
and  poached  on  her  preserves  by  marrying  her  son ; 
which  was  absurd,  because  she  couldn't  possibly  have 
married  him  herself,  you  know." 

"  How  tiresome  of  her !  "  said  Elfrida.  "  I  don't 
think  I  could  ever  get  on  with  a  mother-in-law,  so  I 
have  made  up  my  mind  to  have  none,  but  to  be  an 
orphan-in-law." 

"  But  sisters-in-law  are  a  million  times  worse,  be- 
cause it  takes  a  woman  of  one's  own  age  to  find  one 
out.  I  really  wouldn't  have  married  Silverhampton 
if  he'd  had  sisters,  because  they'd  have  seen  through 
all  my  little  dodges,  which  the  Dowager,  I  am  thank- 
ful to  say,  never  did.  And,  then,  think  of  a  woman 
with  Silverhampton's  nose!  She  would  have  been 
unbearable.  Oh !  I  am  very  thankful  that  he  never 
had  any  sisters." 

"  But  it  must  be  nice  to  have  a  sister  of  one's 
own,"  remarked  Jack. 

"  It  is ;    no  household   should   be  without   one. 


THE   BEAUTIFUL   MISS   HARLAND.  15 

Sisters  and  brothers  are  the  only  people  who  can 
tell  the  truth  to  each  other  without  making  enemies, 
and  they  are  the  only  friends  who  can  exist  without 
flattery." 

"  If  I'd  a  husband  I  shouldn't  flatter  him,"  said 
Elfrida. 

"  Then,  my  dear,  he'd  beat  you,  and  with  my  full 
approval.  A  woman  who  won't  flatter  is  like  a  piano 
that  won't  play.  It  may  be  an  imposing  piece  of  fur- 
niture, but  it  isn't  a  piano.  Now,  take  Sophia  Lum- 
ley ;  she  prides  herself — positively  prides  herself — on 
never  saying  pretty  things  to  people.  She  might 
just  as  well  pride  herself — as  so  many  people  seem 
to  do — on  not  being  able  to  take  cream,  or  exer- 
cise. Why  on  earth  should  people  pride  them- 
selves on  their  infirmities?  They  ought  rather  to 
be  ashamed  of  them,  I  should  say.  Yet  I've  seen 
people  bridle  with  conceit  when  they  say  they  must 
have  milk  and  not  cream  in  their  tea.  Haven't 
you  ?  " 

"  Often,"  agreed  Elfrida ;  "  as  if  it  were  a  sign  of 
excessive  refinement." 

"  I  know ;  and  they  are  just  as  proud  of  not  being 
able  to  say  nice  things  as  they  are  of  not  being  able 
to  take  nice  things,  and  where  the  virtue  of  it  all  lies, 
goodness  only  knows !  What  there  is  to  be  proud  of 
in  being  spiteful  and  bilious  I  can't  imagine ;  but 
these  qualities  seem  to  inflate  their  possessors.  Only 
the  other  day  Sophia  Lumley  went  out  of  her  Avay  to 
tell  me  that  I  looked  quite  my  age,  and  seemed  as 
pleased  with  herself  for  doing  so  as  if  she'd  just  said 
grace  instead  of  insulting  me." 

"  How  exactly  like  her,"  said  Elfrida  sympathet- 
ically. "  She  told  me  the  other  day  that  if  I  heard 
what  people  said  of  me  behind  my  back — instead  of 


l6  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

only  what  they  said  before  my  face — I  should  find 
out  that  I  had  fewer  friends  than  I  imagined." 

"  What  a  disagreeable  person  Sophia  Lumley 
must  be !  "  exclaimed  Jack. 

"  But  the  sickening  part  of  it  is,"  his  hostess  con- 
tinued, "  that  she  counts  all  this  to  herself  for  right- 
eousness, and  positively  pats  and  strokes  her  con- 
science the  whole  time.  If  she  only  knew  how  horrid 
she  is,  I  could  bear  it ;  but  when  she  mistakes  her 
vileness  for  virtue  it  makes  me  feel  positively  ill." 

"I  wonder  how  old  she  is  herself?"  Elfrida  re- 
marked. "  She  must  be  at  least  forty." 

"  And  the  rest,"  cried  Lady  Silverhampton. 
"  The  other  day  she  told  me  with  pride  that  some- 
body had  guessed  her  age  to  be  thirty-nine;  and 
things  are  pretty  bad  with  a  woman  when  she  is  flat- 
tered at  being  taken  for  thirty-nine." 

Captain  Le  Mesurier  smiled.  "  Then  she  is  old 
enough  to  know  better  than  to  go  on  in  this  way." 

"  Oh !  she'll  never  know  any  better,  not  when 
she  is  ninety-nine.  She  is  regularly  disagreeable,  and 
always  will  be.  I'd  rather  play  the  piano  than  be- 
have as  Sophia  Lumley  does,  for  I  think  it  is  even 
better  to  be  accomplished  than  to  be  spiteful." 

"  I  wouldn't  go  as  far  as  that,"  said  Elfrida  cau- 
tiously. 

"  I  would.  Why,  my  dear,  I  would  sooner  sing 
hymns  to  a  concertina  than  say  nasty  things  to  peo- 
ple ;  it  would  make  one  less  unpopular  in  the  long 
run." 

"  How  about  saying  nasty  things  of  people  ?  " 
suggested  Jack. 

"  Oh !  that's  quite  different.  As  long  as  people 
are  civil  to  me  to  my  face,  I  don't  care  what  they 
say  behind  my  back ;  our  faces  are  our  own  but  our 


THE   BEAUTIFUL   MISS   HARLAND.  I7 

backs  are  our  neighbours'.  We  are  all  like  cottages 
with  neat  little  gardens  in  front  and  dirty  linen  hang- 
ing out  to  dry  in  the  back-yard ;  and  it  is  our  own 
fault  if  we  poke  our  heads  out  of  our  back  windows 
and  hear  what  our  neighbours  are  saying  about  us 
there." 

"  But  people,  such  as  Miss  Lumley,  appear  to 
open  your  back  windows  for  you,"  Jack  said. 

"  That  is  where  they  are  so  tiresome  and  imperti- 
nent. Who  on  earth  wants  to  know  the  truth  about 
themselves  ?  I  don't,  and  I  never  met  anybody  who 
did.  So  why  this  compulsory  education  should  be 
forced  upon  us  is  more  than  I  can  say.  What  we 
want  is  a  muzzling-order  for  all  sincere  and  truth- 
speaking  persons ;  that  would  make  the  world  a 
much  better  and  happier  place." 

And  Jack  and  Elfrida  agreed  with  their  hostess. 

During  the  Sunday  these  two  talked  a  great  deal 
to  one  another,  though  Captain  Le  Mesurier  felt  a 
distinct  irritation  all  the  time  he  was  doing  so.  El- 
frida was  the  most  beautiful  woman  he  had  even  seen  ; 
the  type  of  woman,  he  thought,  that  might  be  wor- 
shipped for  her  beauty,  and  it  annoyed  him  to  hear 
her  talk  in  the  sneering  and  cynical  manner  she  gen- 
erally adopted.  Jack  hated  sarcastic  women,  and  he 
felt  that  Fate  had  served  him  a  shabby  trick  in  realiz- 
ing for  him  his  ideal  of  beauty  and  spoiling  the  same 
by  the  addition  of  a  sharp  tongue.  A  regular  hot 
temper  he  liked,  but  the  cool  bitterness  of  a  seasoned 
woman  of  the  world  was  not  in  his  line  at  all,  and  it 
vexed  him  more  than  he  would  haVe  cared  to  confess 
to  find  that  the  beautiful  Miss  Harland  was  made  after 
this  pattern.  He  did  not  take  into  consideration  the 
fact  that  it  is  bad  for  a  woman  to  be  run  after  accord- 
ing to  her  fortune,  and  that  one  who  has  known  much 


18  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

of  this  sort  of  thing  is  apt  to  become  more  cynical 
than  it  is  seemly  for  a  woman  to  be.  Those  for 
whom  the  prayer  of  Agar  is  answered  do  not  see  the 
worst  side  of  human  nature ;  this  depressing  view  is 
reserved  tor  the  extremely  rich  and  the  extremely 
poor — for  those,  in  fact,  in  whose  lives  money,  or  the 
want  of  it,  is  the  prevailing  characteristic. 

As  for  Elfrida,  she  liked  Jack  better  than  any  man 
she  had  ever  met  before,  he  was  so  simple  and  manly 
and  straightforward,  and  never  seemed  to  be  think- 
ing about  her  fortune  at  all.  She  even  went  so  far 
as  to  admit  to  herself  that  there  might  be  excuses, 
under  certain  circumstances,  for  washing  one's  face 
with  yellow  soap  on  a  Sunday  afternoon,  or  for  put- 
ting on  one's  best  gown  and  diamonds  for  a  small 
dinner  party  with  no  ball  afterwards,  which  is  prac- 
tically the  same  thing. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE   WELFORDS. 

"  '  Preserve  me  from  the  commonplace,'  I  cried, 
'  Nor  let  me  walk  the  vulgar  people's  way  ; 
I  long  to  tread  a  loftier  path  than  they 
Who  eat  and  drink,  and  think  of  nought  beside  ! ' " 

MR.  WELFORD  was  what  is  called  a  self-made 
man ;  and  it  is  but  fair  to  say  that  the  finished  article 
did  credit  to  its  manufacturer.  There  was  no  hum- 
bug about  him,  and  he  possessed  an  abundance  of 
common  sense,  while  his  kindness  of  heart  was  in- 
exhaustible. 

As  a  wife,  Mrs.  Welford  was  unexceptionable ; 
as  a  woman,  most  uninteresting.  James  Welford's 
earliest  ambition  had  been  to  marry  one  of  the  Miss 
Snapes  of  Trawley ;  but  it  would  have  seemed  to  him 
invidious — not  to  say  impertinent — to  have  picked 
out  one  of  the  sisters  specially.  He  would  as  soon 
have  thought  of  saying  which  lump  of  sugar  he  would 
take  at  tea,  or  which  mutton  chop  at  dinner.  It  was 
enough  to  state  that  one  would  take  sugar  in  one's 
tea,  or  dine  off  a  mutton  chop — further  fastidious- 
ness was  quite  out  of  place.  All  the  Miss  Snapes 
were  equally  fair  and  buxom  and  well-dowered ;  and 
so  James  Welford  was  quite  content  when  Jane  was 
allotted  to  him.  He  would  have  been  equally  pleased 

19 


20  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

— though  not  more  so — had  it  been  Emma  or  Maria 
or  Mary  Ann. 

The  Welfords  had  two  children,  Percy  and  Julia. 
In  the  case  of  Percy  Welford,  priggishness  was  cul- 
tivated into  a  science.  He  was  the  type  of  young 
man  who  considers  himself  equal  to  teach  anybody 
anything,  and — had  the  occasion  been  granted  to  him 
— he  would  willingly  have  instructed  Milton  in  son- 
net-writing and  Michael  Angelo  in  the  fine  arts.  If 
he  read  anything  that  he  failed  to  understand  (which 
was  not  infrequently),  he  said  it  "  was  not  English  " ; 
and  he  condemned  as  "  vulgar  "  all  forms  of  success 
(and  they  were  not  few)  to  which  he  had  failed  to 
attain.  Moreover,  he  took  himself  seriously,  and  had 
no  sense  of  humour;  and  if  other  people's  opinions 
were  different  from  his,  he  said  they  "  grated  "  upon 
him. 

Nevertheless  Percy  had  his  good  points.  He  was 
devoted  to  his  mother,  and  he  kept  a  conscience. 
This  conscience  he  treated  very  much  as  small  chil- 
dren treat  their  nurses  ;  that  is  to  say,  he  cried  "  Bo !  " 
to  it,  and  tried  to  frighten  it  with  bogies,  and  pre- 
tended to  shock  it  out  of  its  wits ;  but,  all  the  same, 
he  would  no  more  have  dared  seriously  to  disobey  it 
than  he  would  have  tried  to  fly. 

Julia  Welford  was  of  an  opposite  type  to  her 
brother;  she  was  less  conceited  and  therefore  more 
unhappy.  She  was  one  of  the  unlucky  women  whose 
outer  seeming  and  inner  feelings  do  not  match  each 
other,  and  she  had  an  intense  craving  for  affection, 
without  any  corresponding  power  to  command  the 
same.  She  was  a  handsome  girl,  and  ought  to  have 
been  attractive;  but  unfortunately  she  was  utterly 
lacking  in  that  indefinable  quality  which  men  call 
"  charm,"  so  her  undeniable  good  looks  did  not 


THE  WELFORDS.  21 

count.  Julia  Welford  expected  too  much  of  every- 
body and  everything;  therefore  disappointment  was 
her  inalienable  portion.  She  was  always  overdraw- 
ing her  account  at  the  bank  of  life,  and  consequently 
having  her  cheques  dishonoured.  She  had  never 
grasped  the  fact  that  the  measure  wherewith  we  mete 
is  the  only  measure  which  we  have  a  right  to  demand  ; 
and  that  as  we  can  only  give  of  our  very  best  to  one 
person,  we  should  only  expect  one  person  to  give  his 
or  her  very  best  to  us.  Poor  Julia,  however,  ex- 
pected to  be  first  in  the  estimation  of  people  who 
occupied  about  the  twenty-fifth  place  in  her  scale  of 
attachment;  and  when  she  found  that  she  was  natu- 
rally not  the  primary  consideration  in  these  cases, 
she  cried  her  eyes  out,  and  exclaimed  that  love  was 
a  snare  and  friendship  vanity.  She  had  no  sense  of 
proportion. 

The  Welfords'  house  was  large  and  ugly  and  com- 
fortable, and  was  called  Fairlawn.  It  was  situated  on 
the  outskirts  of  the  pretty  little  village  of  Sunnydale ; 
and  Mr.  Welford  and  Percy  went  every  day  by  train 
to  the  neighbouring  town  of  Trawley  to  attend  to 
their  business. 

One  day,  about  a  week  after  Christmas,  Percy  in- 
quired of  his  family,  who  were  assembled  round  the 
tea-table : 

"  Has  any  one  seen  anything  of  the  new  organist 
who  has  come  to  Sunnydale  in  old  Lester's  place?" 

"  I  have  seen  him,  my  dear,"  replied  Mrs.  Wel- 
ford ;  "  he  is  quite  an  old  man,  and  stoops  dreadfully, 
but  Mrs.  Bailey  tells  me  he  is  a  pleasant  person  to 
talk  to." 

"  Did  Mrs.  Bailey  give  you  any  further  informa- 
tion about  him  or  his  family?  "  Percy  inquired. 

"  Yes ;    she   told   me   all   about   them,"    replied 


22  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

Percy's  mother,  settling  herself  down  comfortably 
to  the  recital  of  such  news  as  she  had  gleaned.  Mrs. 
Welford  dearly  loved  to  talk ;  it  was  her  one  recre- 
ation, and  she  never  lost  an  opportunity  of  indulging 
in  it.  The  strange  thing  was  that  doing  it  so  much 
did  not  teach  her  to  do  it  better — in  short,  that  such 
continual  practice  did  not  come  within  measurable 
distance  of  some  sort  of  conversational  perfection. 
The  excellent  lady  possessed  the  gift  of  making  su- 
premely uninteresting  every  subject  that  she  chose  to 
touch ;  the  most  thrilling  information  became  tame 
and  spiritless  in  Mrs.  Welford's  hands.  And  this 
arose  partly  from  the  fact  that  in  telling  a  story  she 
was  incapable  of  separating  the  grain  from  the  chaff, 
and  leaving  out  the  non-essential  portions  of  the  his- 
tory, and  partly  from  a  habit  she  affected  of  repeat- 
ing conversations  exactly  as  they  took  place,  instead 
of  using  the  form  which  grammarians  call  "  the  ob- 
lique oration." 

"I  met  Mrs.  Bailey  about  a  fortnight  ago,"  she 
began  ;  "  but  no — I  think  it  must  be  three  weeks,  be- 
cause I  distinctly  remember  that  there  was  no  snow 
on  the  ground,  as  I  should  not  have  stood  still  in  the 
road  to  speak  to  anybody  if  there  had  been ;  and  I 
am  sure  this  snow  has  been  lying  over  a  fortnight 
already." 

"  It  fell  exactly  a  fortnight  to-day,"  snapped  out 
Julia ;  "  but  what  has  that  to  do  with  the  new  organ- 
ist and  his  family?  " 

"  Nothing,  my  dear,  nothing;  but  I  was  just  won- 
dering how  long  it  was  since  Mrs.  Bailey  spoke  to 
me  about  them.  If,  as  you  say,  it  is  a  full  fortnight 
since  the  snow  fell,  it  must  be  nearly  three  weeks 
since  the  day  I  stopped  to  talk  to  Mrs.  Bailey  in  the 
road.  It  was  a  wonderfully  warm  day  for  the  time 


THE   WELFORDS.  23 

of  year,  as  we  stood  talking  for  at  least  five  minutes 
— or  it  might  have  been  ten — without  feeling  chilled 
in  the  very  least." 

"  Well,  continue  about  Mr.  Morgan,"  interrupted 
Percy. 

"  As  I  was  saying,  Mrs.  Bailey  said  to  me,  '  Mrs. 
Welford,  have  you  called  upon  our  new  organist 
yet  ? '  '  No,  Mrs.  Bailey,'  I  said,  '  I  have  not  done 
so,  it  being  such  a  busy  time  just  now  preparing  for 
Christmas ;  and  I  always  make  a  point  of  seeing  to 
the  plum-puddings  and  the  spiced  beef  and  the  mince- 
pies  myself,  as,  if  you  leave  them  to  servants,  there  is 
sure  to  be  some  mistake ;  either  the  beef  is  not  spicy 
enough,  or  the  mince-meat  tastes  of  suet.'  '  You  are 
quite  right,  Mrs.  Welford,'  replied  Mrs.  Bailey ;  '  if 
you  want  a  thing  well  done  do  it  yourself,  and  don't 
leave  it  to  anybody.'  She  is  really  a  most  sensible 
woman." 

Percy  made  another  attempt  to  lead  his  wander- 
ing parent  into  the  conversational  paths  where  he 
wished  her  to  walk. 

"  But  what  about  the  Morgans,  mother?  " 

"  I  was  just  telling  you  about  them,  my  love,  if 
you  hadn't  interrupted  me.  '  Mr.  Morgan  is  an  in- 
teresting old  man,'  continued  Mrs.  Bailey,  '  and  an 
accomplished  musician ;  and  his  wife  is  an  excellent 
woman  in  her  way,  though  her  tongue  is  too  sharp 
for  my  taste.'  '  Mrs.  Bailey,'  I  said,  '  that  is  a  pity ; 
the  wife  of  a  professional  man  should  never  have  a 
sharp  tongue.  It  may  do  harm  to  her  husband,  and 
can  do  herself  no  good.'  " 

"  Did  Mrs.  Bailey  tell  you  anything  else  about 
them  ?  "  asked  the  insatiable  Percy. 

"  Yes,  a  great  deal,  which  I  will  repeat  to  you 
if  you  will  only  give  me  time,"  replied  his  mother. 


24  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  It  appears  that  the  Morgans  have  a  granddaughter 
living  with  them — an  extremely  handsome  girl ;  at 
least,  she  doesn't  exactly  live  with  them,  as  she  has 
a  situation,  I  believe,  as  a  governess  or  companion 
or  something,  and  makes  their  very  small  income  a 
little  larger  by  her  salary;  but  she  spends  her  holi- 
days with  them,  and  she  is  at  home  now." 

"  I  have  seen  her,"  exclaimed  Percy ;  "  she  is  a 
'  phantom  of  delight.'  " 

"  Right  you  are,"  agreed  his  father ;  "  I  think 
she  is  one  of  the  best-looking  girls  I  ever  saw  in  my 
life." 

"  She  is  vilely  dressed,"  remarked  Julia ;  "  she 
wears  ready-made  clothes,  and  does  her  hair  in  an 
obsolete  fashion.  I  don't  admire  her  at  all." 

"  You  never  do  admire  other  girls,"  said  her 
brother  pleasantly ;  "  you  are  so  consumedly  jealous." 

Julia's  face  flushed  and  her  eyes  filled  with  tears. 
She  was  always  laying  herself  open  to  nasty  knocks, 
and  then  crying  when  the  inevitable  occurred. 

"  I  am  not  jealous,"  she  retorted  angrily.  "  How 
could  I  be  jealous  of  a  girl  who  dresses  badly  and 
can't  even  do  her  own  hair  properly?  Besides,  she 
has  got  such  horrid  manners,  and  has  .all  the  assur- 
ance and  assertiveness  of  a  woman  who  is  earning 
her  own  living.  She  seems  to  me  a  detestable  sort 
of  girl." 

"  Never  mind,  Judy,"  said  her  father  kindly ; 
"  there  is  room  in  the  world  for  two  handsome  wom- 
en, you  know,  and  lovers  enough  for  both  and  to 
spare.  So  you  need  not  grudge  the  organist's  grand- 
daughter her  good  looks,  for  you've  got  your  full 
share  yourself,  my  dear." 

Mr.  Welford  was  a  very  pleasant  man  in  all 
things  save  matters  ecclesiastical.  He  was  so  thor- 


THE   WELFORDS.  25 

oughly  pleased  with  himself  that  he  looked  at  life 
through  rose-coloured  spectacles.  Consequently  the 
people  who  lived  with  him  loved  him ;  and  those  who 
only  met  him  occasionally  laughed  at  him  a  good 
deal. 

"  Where  have  you  seen  Miss  Morgan  ?  "  Percy 
inquired  of  his  sister. 

"  Her  name  isn't  Morgan,  it  is  Harland,"  an- 
swered Julia.  "  Her  mother  was  Mr.  Morgan's 
daughter,  and  died  when  she  was  a  baby.  She  (the 
mother,  I  mean)  had  married  very  much  above  her, 
and  her  husband's  people  never  would  recognize  her, 
as  it  was  a  runaway  match." 

"  Then  where  is  the  husband  now  ?  "  asked  Percy. 

"  Oh !  he  died  abroad,  after  he  had  been  married 
a  few  months,  and  the  widow  did  not  long  survive 
him.  She  left  twin  daughters,  born  after  their  fa- 
ther's death ;  and  her  parents  adopted  the  one,  while 
his  people  took  the  other  on  condition  that  the  latter 
had  nothing  to  do  with  her  mother's  relations." 

"  It  is  rather  rough  on  this  one,"  said  Mr.  Wei- 
ford,  "  for  her  twin  sister  to  be  living  in  luxury  while 
she  has  to  work  for  her  own  living." 

Percy  agreed  with  his  father.  "  Extremely  rough, 
I  should  say." 

"  But  with  such  a  face  as  hers  she  won't  have  to 
work  long,"  added  the  master  of  Fairlawn. 

Julia  tossed  her  head.  "  At  any  rate  she  has  had 
to  work  in  single  blessedness  till  she  is  five-and- 
twenty,  so  she  cannot  be  so  marvellously  attractive 
after  all." 

"  Let  not  the  pot  address  the  kettle,"  retorted  her 
brother.  "  If  my  arithmetic  is  not  at  fault,  you  your- 
self are  six-and-twenty." 

"  Oh !  7  don't  set  up  for  being  a  beauty." 

3 


26  A   DOUBLE    THREAD. 

"  It  is  a  good  thing  you  do  not,  for  you  would 
get  no  following  if  you  did." 

"  Gently,  children,  gently,"  remonstrated  Mr. 
Welford.  Then  he  turned  to  his  wife.  "  I  think  you 
should  call  on  the  Morgans  when  you  have  the  lei- 
sure, my  dear." 

"  I  mean  to  do  so.  I  said  only  the  other  day  to 
Mrs.  Bailey,  '  Mrs.  Bailey,  I  think  that  in  a  small  vil- 
lage such  as  this  it  is  everybody's  duty  to  call  upon 
everybody  else.  In  a  large  town  one  may  pick  and 
choose  one's  friends ;  but  in  a  small  village  one  must 
be  neighbourly.'  And  Mrs.  Bailey  quite  agreed 
with  me." 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  vicar's  wife  had  originated 
the  sentiment,  and  Mrs.  Welford  had  agreed  with  her. 
But  this  was  a  mere  question  of  detail. 

"  And  after  you  have  called  you  should  invite 
them  to  something,"  continued  the  hospitable  manu- 
facturer ;  "  a  good  dinner  is  a  great  treat  to  people 
like  that.  They  don't  get  one  every  day." 

"  I  shouldn't  waste  a  dinner  on  them,"  said  Julia ; 
"  I  should  give  an  evening  party  to  all  the  people  we 
don't  care  about,  and  throw  them  in." 

"  But  a  dinner  would  do  them  good,"  persisted 
Mr.  Welford. 

"  Yes,  a  dinner  is  the  correct  thing,"  agreed 
Percy,  who  foresaw  that  if  he  took  Miss  Harland  in 
to  dinner  he  should  get  far  more  conversation  with 
her  than  he  could  at  an  evening  party. 

"  You  couldn't  ask  anybody  decent  to  meet  them," 
argued  Julia ;  "  and  it  would  be  a  dreadful  bore  to 
have  them  all  to  ourselves.  People  like  that  are 
smuggled  in  with  a  crowd  at  an  evening  party ;  but 
one  always  feels  responsible  somehow  for  the  people 
one  invites  to  dinner." 


THE  WELFORDS.  2/ 

"  You  could  ask  the  vicarage  people  to  meet 
them,"  suggested  Percy. 

His  sister  shook  her  head  vehemently.  "  I 
wouldn't  do  such  a  thing  for  worlds.  Mrs.  Bailey  is 
a  perfect  lady — she  is  first  cousin  to  a  baronet,  and 
her  father  was  a  gentleman  at  large — so  I  would  not 
take  a  liberty  with  her  on  any  account.  She  would 
very  much  resent  being  asked  to  meet  such  people 
as  the  Morgans." 

"  I  don't  see  why,"  said  Mr.  Welford,  looking 
puzzled. 

"  Oh  !  I  call  the  Morgans  awfully  common :  they 
live  in  a  poky  little  house,  and  only  keep  one  servant, 
and  are  altogether  outsiders.  As  for  the  girl,  she  is 
thoroughly  bad  style  in  my  opinion ;  and  I  feel  sure 
she  hasn't  a  proper  evening  dress  in  her  possession. 
I  expect  she'd  come  in  a  Sunday  dress,  with  a  white 
camellia  in  her  hair  and  a  bit  of  maiden-hair  fern, 
and  -think  she  was  all  right." 

"  She  would  be  '  a  lovely  apparition '  in  any- 
thing," said  Percy. 

"  I  don't  agree  with  you." 

Mr.  Welford  again  stepped  into  the  breach. 
"  Anyway,  your  mother  shall  call  on  them  at  once,  as 
it  is  well  to  be  on  a  friendly  footing  with  all  one's 
neighbours ;  and  we  can  settle  about  inviting  them 
afterwards." 

"  Still,  we  must  ask  them  soon,"  objected  Percy, 
"  or  else  Miss  Harland's  holidays  will  be  over.  Gov- 
ernesses don't  generally  get  more  than  a  month  at 
Christmas." 

The  result  of  this  conversation  was  that  the  very 
next  day  Mrs.  Welford  and  her  daughter  went  to 
pay  their  call  on  the  organist's  wife. 

Julia  was  right  when  she  called  the  Morgans' 


28  A   DOUBLE    THREAD. 

house  "  poky."  The  architect  had  been  clever  in 
that — though  the  house  was  situated  in  one  of  the 
prettiest  villages  in  England — there  was  not  a  view 
to  be  obtained  from  any  of  the  windows ;  though  the 
prospect  from  the  garden  was  most  beautiful  and  ex- 
tensive, and  included  peeps  of  half  a  dozen  counties. 
Nevertheless  the  little  dwelling  was  warm  and  com- 
fortable ;  and,  thanks  to  the  substantial  help  which 
they  received  from  their  granddaughter,  there  was  no 
sign  of  poverty  in  the  Morgans'  home.  If  they  had 
not  had  her  to  help  them,  poor  old  Mr.  Morgan  and 
his  wife  would  have  fared  but  badly ;  but  she  was  a 
good  girl,  and  saw  that,  as  far  as  lay  in  her  power  to 
prevent  it,  her  grandparents  did  not  want  for  any- 
thing. 

Mrs.  Morgan  was  a  neat  little  old  lady,  with  a 
face  like  a  hard  apple.  Life  had  not  been  easy  to  her, 
but  she  had  proved  herself  equal  to  all  its  demands, 
though  the  struggle  had  left  her  somewhat  tough  and 
untender. 

As  for  her  granddaughter — but  it  is  difficult  to 
describe  Ethel  Harland.  It  is  simple  enough  to  say 
that  she  was  beautiful  and  clever;  so  are  scores  of 
women ;  but  it  is  impossible  to  adequately  depict  the 
precise  combination  of  qualities  which  made  Ethel 
such  an  attractive  woman. 

Her  features  and  height  and  colouring  were  ex- 
actly the  same  as  Elfrida's  ;  but  there  the  resemblance 
ended,  as  far  as  an  ordinary  observer  could  see.  In- 
stead of  having  Elfrida's  air  of  finish  and  fashion, 
she  was  plainly,  even  poorly,  dressed;  in  place  of 
Elfrida's  elaborately  arranged  coiffure,  Ethel's  hair 
was  done  up  anyhow,  in  an  old-fashioned  style,  and 
was,  moreover,  decidedly  untidy.  Unlike  Elfrida's 
stately  and  studied  manner,  Ethel  was  perfectly  natu- 


THE   WELFORDS. 


29 


ral  and  spontaneous ;  and,  in  short,  Ethel  seemed  a 
light-hearted  child  of  nature,  while  Elfrida  appeared 
to  be  a  spoilt  darling  of  fortune. 

Mrs.  Morgan  and  her  granddaughter  were  sitting 
in  their  little  parlour,  sewing,  when  their  visitors 
were  announced. 

"  I  hope  you  will  excuse  me  for  not  having  called 
upon  you  earlier,"  began  Mrs.  Welford,  bustling  and 
rustling  into  the  room  till  she  seemed  to  fill  it ;  "  but, 
as  I  said  to  Mrs.  Bailey  only  the  other  day,  '  One  is 
so  busy  just  at  Christmas  time  that  one  really  has  no 
time  to  attend  to  one's  social  duties,  and  so  they  get 
terribly  neglected.'  And  Mrs.  Bailey  quite  agreed 
with  me." 

Mrs.  Welford  always  offered  an  apology  when- 
ever she  could  find  a  reasonable  excuse  for  one ;  not 
that  she  was  ever  really  penitent  about  anything  she 
had  done  or  left  undone — she  was  far  too  easy-go- 
ing for  that — but  she  had  an  idea  that  it  was  good 
manners  to  do  so.  Whence  she  had  got  this 
idea  into  her  head,  it  is  impossible  to  say ;  but,  as 
every  one  knows,  incorrect  ideas  are  the  ideas  that 
stick. 

"  Pray  don't  apologize,  Mrs.  Welford,"  said  Mrs. 
Morgan  sharply ;  "  better  late  than  never,  you  know ; 
and  it  is  kind  of  you  to  come  at  all." 

"  And  this  I  suppose  is  Miss  Harland,"  remarked 
the  visitor,  extending  a  plump,  well-gloved  hand  to 
Ethel ;  "  Julia,  my  love,  let  me  introduce  you  to  this 
dear  young  lady.  I  am  sure  in  so  small  a  place  as 
this  all  the  young  people  should  make  friends  with 
each  other;  don't  you  think  so,  Mrs.  Morgan?  As 
I  was  saying  to  my  husband  only  yesterday,  '  James,' 
said  I,  '  we  old  folks  can  do  without  new  friends,  but 
the  young  ones  need  congenial  companionship.' 


3O  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

You  see,  the  young  people  have  not  the  resources  in 
themselves  that  we  have." 

"  I  don't  agree  with  you  there,"  replied  Mrs.  Mor- 
gan ;  "  it  seems  to  me  that  they  have  far  more  re- 
sources than  we  have,  and  far  more  opportunities  of 
enlarging  those  resources." 

Mrs.  Morgan  nearly  always  contradicted  a  state- 
ment. She  had  been  very  poor  until  her  grand- 
daughter was  of  an  age  to  help  her,  and  in  her  case 
poverty  had  run  to  contradictiousness.  It  some- 
times does;  just  as  wealth  runs  to  selfishness  now 
and  then. 

"  I  hope  Mr.  Morgan  is  well,"  said  Mrs.  Wei- 
ford  ;  "  he  must  find  this  cold  weather  very  trying 
when  he  has  to  go  out  through  the  snow  to  all  the 
services.  As  we  drove  here  to-day  I  remarked  to  my 
daughter,  '  Julia,  there  is  nothing  so  trying  and  so 
likely  to  give  one  cold  as  a  deep  snow — except  a 
thick  fog;  it  is  so  difficult  to  keep  one's  feet  dry  in 
snowy  weather.'  " 

"  Do  you  think  so?  Now  my  husband  is  of  quite 
a  different  opinion — he  says  this  cold  weather  is  ten 
times  more  healthy  than  the  warm  muggy  days  which 
preceded  it,  and  so  he  feels  much  stronger  and  more 
fit  for  work  than  he  did  then." 

"  I  can  quite  understand  that,"  said  Mrs.  Wei- 
ford,  in  a  conciliatory  manner ;  "  and  Sunnydale  is  a 
particularly  bracing  place.  The  vicar  and  his  wife 
lived  at  Sugbury  before  they  came  here,  and  they  find 
this  such  a  delightful  change  after  that  relaxing  cli- 
mate. They  had  only  been  here  a  few  months  when 
Mrs.  Bailey  said  to  me, '  Mrs.  Welford,  you  will  hard- 
ly believe  it,  but  my  husband  and  I  feel  ten  years 
younger  than  we  did  at  Sugbury.'  And  I  was  so 
glad  to  hear  it,  for  the  Baileys  are  such  charming 


THE  WELFORDS.  31 

people.  He  is  an  excellent  preacher,  you  know, 
though  rather  too  high  for  my  taste;  and  she  has 
most  aristocratic  connections." 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean  by  being  '  too 
high,'  Mrs.  Welford:  I  must  confess  that  I  like  an 
ornate  ritual  myself." 

Mrs.  Morgan  had  not  the  least  intention  of  being 
disagreeable  when  she  disagreed  with  people ;  it  was 
her  way  of  enjoying  herself. 

"  Of  course,  dear  Mrs.  Morgan,"  her  visitor  has- 
tened to  assure  her ;  "  so  do  I — in  fact,  I  believe  all 
women  do ;  but  one  has  to  consider  one's  husband. 
Our  late  vicar  was  extremely  ritualistic,  and  I  must 
confess  that  I  enjoyed  his  services  extremely.  But 
I  had  a  terrible  time  with  Mr.  Welford.  We  dine 
early  on  Sundays — on  account  of  the  servants,  you 
know — and  he  used  to  be  so  put  out  by  the  way  in 
which  the  morning  service  was  conducted  that  he 
never  could  digest  his  dinner.  In  fact,  he  was  posi- 
tively ill  all  Sunday  evening  and  Monday  morning,  as 
regular  as  clockwork,  till  I  was  afraid  his  digestion 
would  be  permanently  impaired  by  Mr.  Rigby's  rit- 
ualism." 

"  Ah  !  it  is  a  mistake  to  take  things  to  heart  like 
that — a  great  mistake !  How  did  you  deal  with  the 
matter  ?  " 

"  It  got  so  bad  at  last,"  continued  Mrs.  Welford, 
"  that — after  we'd  had  a  processional  hymn — he 
could  not  digest  a  mutton  chop  and  a  plain  rice  pud- 
ding. So  I  said,  '  James,  you  will  break  down  if  you 
go  on  like  this ;  let  us  take  a  pew  at  the  Congrega- 
tional Chapel.' " 

Mrs.  Morgan  shook  her  head.  "  You  were 
wrong  there,  Mrs.  Welford ;  you  had  better  have 
joined  the  Wesleyans.  Their  services  are  almost 


32  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

identical  with  those  of  the  Church  of  England,  and 
so  are  their  doctrines,  I  believe." 

Mrs.  Welford  hastened  to  appease  her  hostess  by 
saying  that  the  Wesleyan  Chapel  was  too  far  off. 

"  Did  the  plan  answer?  "  inquired  Mrs.  Morgan, 
with  sincere  interest. 

Mrs.  Welford  shook  her  head.  "Just  at  first  it 
answered  splendidly,  and  James's  digestion  got  back 
to  its  ordinary  state ;  but  one  Sunday  they  had  a  col- 
lection for  the  choir-expenses — with  an  anthem — 
and  James  declared  that  an  anthem  was  flat  Popery, 
and  that  he'd  never  go  near  the  place  again.  I  re- 
member we  unfortunately  had  veal  for  dinner  that 
Sunday,  and  I  thought  that  at  tea-time  James  would 
have  died." 

While  their  female  relations  were  discussing  theo- 
logical difficulties,  Julia  and  Ethel  catechised  each 
other,  as  girls  will ;  that  is  to  say,  Julia  asked  ques- 
tions in  order  to  find  out  what  Ethel  was  like,  and 
Ethel  found  out  what  Julia  was  like  without  asking 
any  questions  at  all. 

"  Do  you  think  Sunnydale  is  a  pretty  village  ?  " 
inquired  Julia,  with  her  most  patronizing  air. 

"  Quite  lovely.  Everything  is  perfect  of  its  kind, 
and  everything  is  in  its  right  position.  The  river 
runs  just  where  it  ought  to  run,  and  the  church  is 
planted  just  where  the  church  ought  to  be,  and  even 
the  post-office  knows  its  place  and  sticks  to  it." 

Julia's  manner  chilled  visibly ;  she  did  not  like  to 
be  spoken  to  by  a  governess  in  this  easy  and  familiar 
way.  Unlike  the  post-office,  Miss  Harland  evidently 
did  not  know  her  place. 

"  This  is  your  first  visit  here,  I  believe,"  said  Julia 
stiffly. 

"  Yes ;  I  only  come  home  .for  my  holidays,  and 


THE  WELFORDS. 


33 


my  people  moved  here  during  the  autumn,  while  I 
was  hard  at  work,  in  order  to  be  comfortably  settled 
when  I  was  ready  to  come  to  them.  I  do  so  love  the 
country,  and  yet  I  get  so  little  of  it ;  but  now  I  spend 
every  spare  moment  out  of  doors,  so  as  to  make  the 
very  most  of  this  delightful  place.  It  must  be  nice 
for  you  living  here  all  the  year  round !  " 

"  I  get  very  tired  of  it.  One  cannot  feed  one's 
mind  entirely  upon  fresh  air  and  an  extensive  view; 
and  the  society  here  is'  wretched.  I  daresay  you 
will  not  mind  it,  as  probably  you  haven't  been  used 
to  anything  different,  but  it  bores  me  to  death." 

Ethel  did  not  take  umbrage  at  this  remark,  as  a 
smaller-natured  girl  might  have  done.  She  under- 
stood perfectly  that  Julia  meant  to  be  unkind  to  her, 
but  she  also  understood  that  people  as  a  rule  do  not 
mean  to  be  unkind  unless  they  are  also  unhappy ;  so 
she  pitied  the  handsome,  dissatisfied  girl  sitting  be- 
side her,  and  wondered  what  crook  had  come  into 
this  woman's  lot. 

"  But,  somehow,  one  seems  independent  of  so- 
ciety in  the  country,"  she  said ;  "  in  a  town,  I  grant 
you,  one's  fellow-creatures  are  a  necessity,  as  there  is 
nothing  else ;  but  there  is  so  much  in  the  country  to 
interest  and  amuse  one  that  other  people  don't 
really  matter." 

"  Still  you  must  speak  to  the  people  about  you," 
snapped  out  Miss  Welford ;  "  and  here  they  are  the 
dullest  set  imaginable,  to  whom  it  is  not  worth  while 
to  speak  at  all.  Now  in  London  you  can  pick  and 
choose,  and  go  in  for  congenial  society;  but  here 
you  must  take  what  there  is  and  make  the  best  of  it — 
and  bad's  the  best,  I  can  assure  you." 

"  But  I  think  that  in  London  one  is  too  apt  to 
pick  and  choose — too  eclectic,  I  suppose  I  ought  to 


34 


A  DOUBLE   THREAD. 


say.  Because  there  you  can  get  the  cream  of  every- 
thing, you  are  inclined  to  take  nothing  but  cream ; 
and  cream  is  not  altogether  satisfactory  as  one's  sole 
diet.  Something  rather  more  substantial  is  needed, 
don't  you  think  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure." 

Ethel  was  so  much  interested  in  her  subject  that 
she  did  not  notice  Julia's  snubbing,  but  went  on : 
"  Now  in  the  country  it  is  different.  There  you  can 
only  know  a  few  people,  and  you  know  them  thor- 
oughly, and  are  able  to  study  their  characters  all 
through.  And  this  is  much  more  interesting  and 
amusing,  just  as  it  is  better  to  know  a  few  books  well 
than  to  skip  a  whole  circulating  library." 

"  Is  your  situation  in  London  ?  " 

"  I  live  there  for  the  greater  part  of  the  year." 

"  And  do  you  like  it?  " 

Ethel  Harland  sighed.  "  No ;  I  simply  hate  the 
sight  of  the  place." 

"  How  queer  of  you !     I  love  London." 

"Do  you?  I  don't  expect  you  would,  though, 
if  you  had  as  much  of  it  as  I  have." 

"  But,  of  course,  we  see  it  under  such  different 
auspices,"  said  Julia,  in  her  superior  way.  "  I  dare- 
say if  I  had  to  work  for  my  living  I  should  not  enjoy 
it  any  more  than  you  do.  But  when  we  go  to  Lon- 
don we  do  it  thoroughly  well.  We  stop  at  the  Grand 
Hotel,  and  hire  a  private  brougham,  and  take  places 
in  the  dress-circle  at  all  the  theatres." 

Ethel's  eyes  twinkled.  She  had  a  keen  sense  of 
humour,  and  Miss  Welford's  ideas  as  to  how  to  live 
in  London  tickled  her.  She  was  only  five-and-twen- 
ty;  but  she  had  had  to  fight  the  battle  of  life  for 
herself  ever  since  she  grew  up,  and  so  her  powers 
and  perceptions  were  well  developed.  She  some- 


THE   WELFORDS. 


35 


times  grew  a  little  tired  of  fighting  for  herself,  poor 
child !  and  envied  the  girls  who  had  fathers  to  fight 
for  them  and  mothers  to  comfort  them.  But  she  was 
brave  on  the  whole,  and  did  not  waste  her  time  nor 
dim  her  pretty  eyes  by  crying  for  moons  which  could 
never  be  hers. 

"  The  worst  of  living  in  a  place  like  this,"  con- 
tinued Julia,  "  is  that  there  is  nobody  to  appreciate 
you.  I  daresay  other  girls  don't  feel  this  as  I  do ; 
but  mine  is  a  very  difficult  nature  to  understand,  and 
commonplace  people  do  not  in  the  least  compre- 
hend me." 

"  Oh !  I  think  we  all  feel  like  that  when  we  are 
very  young,  and  imagine  that  no  one  else  has  ever 
shared  our  thoughts  and  feelings.  But  don't  you 
think  that  the  comfort  of  growing  older  is  that  we 
gradually  learn  that  we  are  not  at  all  peculiar,  but 
that  everybody  feels  exactly  as  we  do,  and  that  we 
are  really  quite  easy  to  understand?  I  am  always 
so  thankful  to  know  that  I  am  primitive  and  normal, 
and  not  in  any  way  remarkable." 

Julia  Welford  did  not  at  all  approve  of  this  senti- 
ment. It  was  her  delight  to  imagine  that  she  pos- 
sessed a  rare  and  exotic  nature,  which  was  incompre- 
hensible to  the  common  herd ;  and  this  young  wom- 
an's way  of  ruthlessly  classing  her  with  ordinary  mor- 
tals struck  her  as  extremely  vulgar. 

So,  for  the  rest  of  the  call,  the  relations  between 
Ethel  and  Julia  were  a  trifle  strained. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE   WELFORDS*    PARTY. 

"  She  cheered  each  dry  committee 

With  tales  of  absent  folk  ; 
And  let  nor  truth  nor  pity 

Impair  her  little  joke  ; 
Till  loves  were  soiled  and  lives  were  spoiled 

By  every  word  she  spoke." 

IT  is  proverbial  that  the  ruling  power  of  a  house 
is  generally  vested  in  the  worst  temper  therein  ;  there- 
fore Julia  Welford  had  her  way,  and  the  Morgans 
were  invited  to  what  was  called  in  Sunnydale  "  a 
friendly  evening,"  instead  of  being  treated  to  a  din- 
ner. "  A  friendly  evening "  began  in  coffee  and 
closed  in  a  cold  supper,  and  was  an  enjoyable  form 
of  entertainment  to  all  such  as  were  old  enough  and 
wise  enough  not  to  sigh  for  a  tctc-a-tctc.  For  this  it 
offered  little  or  no  opportunity,  and  so  was  inferior — 
in  the  eyes  of  the  young  and  foolish — to  a  dance,  a 
dinner-party,  and  most  emphatically  to  a  picnic. 

Julia  was  right  in  her  surmise  that  Ethel  Har- 
land  would  not  have  what  girls  call  "  a  proper  even- 
ing dress  "  ;  instead  of  displaying  the  regulation  arms 
and  neck,  she  wore  a  gown  of  some  clinging  white 
material,  up  to  her  throat  and  down  to  her  wrists; 
but  her  beauty  was  so  striking  that  she  looked  lovely 


THE   WELFORDS'   PARTY. 


37 


even  in  this  most  simple  attire.  At  least,  so  Percy 
Welford  thought. 

One  of  the  peculiarities  of  the  Welfords'  "  friendly 
evenings  "  was  that  the  number  of  the  guests  and  the 
number  of  the  drawing-room  chairs  were  identical, 
so  that  nobody  could  change  his  or  her  position 
unless  somebody  else  were  seized  with  a  simultaneous 
desire.  This,  like  the  old  custom  of  taking  wine  with 
people,  depended  too  much  upon  the  whim  of  an- 
other to  be  absolutely  satisfactory  to  any  one.  It  re- 
quires much  self-confidence,  added  to  considerable 
savoir  faire,  to  enable  one  to  break  away  from  one's 
anchorage  in  a  crowded  drawing-room  until  there  is 
another  haven  in  sight.  Percy  Welford,  being  a  son 
of  the  house,  and  a  man  of  the  world  into  the  bar- 
gain (according  to  his  own  estimation),  wandered 
about  the  room  with  a  small  gilt  chair,  as  if  he  had 
a  "  rover's  ticket " ;  but  every  one  else  remained 
pretty  much  where  Fate  anu  Mrs.  Welford  had  first 
placed  them. 

"Have  you  heard  about  Louie  Beale?"  asked 
little  Miss  Barber  of  her  nearest  neighbour. 

"  No,  my  dear,"  replied  Mrs.  Cottle,  the  wife  of 
a  successful  man  of  business;  "what  of  her?" 

"  I  believe  she  is  in  love  with  that  young  Mr. 
Adams  who  has  taken  the  Palmers'  house." 

"  Dear  me !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Cottle  excitedly ; 
"  whatever  makes  you  think  so  ?  " 

Miss  Barber  lowered  her  voice  to  a  stage  whis- 
per. "  I  saw  him  take  off  his  hat  to  her  in  Trawley, 
and  I  am  positive  she  blushed." 

"  Maria,  your  imagination  is  running  away  with 
you,"  said  Mrs.  Cottle  severely ;  "  she  might  have 
been  overheated  with  walking,  and  that  heightened 
her  colour." 


38  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  But  she  wasn't  walking,"  explained  the  little 
spinster  meekly ;  "  she  was  standing  talking  to  me, 
and  we  were  arranging  about  the  parish  tea.  I  had 
just  remarked  to  myself  how  very  pale  she  looked — 
in  fact,  I  was  going  to  recommend  preserved  hips- 
and-haws  to  her,  they  are  so  very  good  for  the  com- 
plexion— when  Mr.  Adams  passed  and  moved  to  her, 
and  she  went  the  colour  of  a  rose,  I  assure  you." 

"  It  was  very  unwomanly  of  her,"  said  Mrs.  Cottle 
sternly,  who  in  her  mind's  eye  had  set  apart  Mr. 
Adams  for  one  of  her  own  daughters. 

Miss  Barber  pursed  up  her  mouth.  "  I  felt  a 
little  shocked  myself,  I  must  confess." 

"  Really,  Maria  Barber,"  chimed  in  old  Mrs. 
Brown,  "  cannot  you  find  something  better  to  do 
than  gossip  about  your  neighbours?  And  that  re- 
minds me,  Mrs.  Cottle,  have  you  heard  that  Mrs. 
Crowther's  cook  is  leaving  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  surprised,"  said  Mrs.  Cottle ;  "  Mrs. 
Crowther  never  can  keep  her  servants." 

"  And  for  a  very  good  reason,  too,"  added  Mrs. 
Brown  mysteriously. 

"  Indeed  ;  and  what  is  that  ?  " 

"  She  makes  them  have  dripping  instead  of  butter 
three  days  a  week,  and  of  course  they  won't  stand  it." 

"  My  word !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Cottle ;  "  but  do 
you  feel  sure  of  that,  Mrs.  Brown  ?  " 

11 1  am  afraid  so,"  answered  Mrs.  Brown,  with  a 
sigh :  "  you  see,  my  Mary  Jane  is  engaged  to  the 
butcher's  boy,  and  his  sister  is  Mrs.  Crowther's 
housemaid,  so  she  hears  all  about  Mrs.  Crowther's 
meannesses  from  him.  And  what  makes  it  so  dis- 
graceful is  that  Mrs.  Crowther's  uncle  died  a  few 
months  ago  and  left  them  quite  a  nice  little  legacy,  I 
believe.  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  mention  names,  but  I 


THE   WELFORDS'   PARTY. 


39 


was  told,  on  very  good  authority,  that  it  was  not 
much  less  than  two  thousand  pounds." 

"  Dear  me,  dear  me  !  "  groaned  Mrs.  Cottle ;  "  the 
love  of  money  is  indeed  a  most  serious  thing." 

"  Mrs.  Cottle,  you  never  said  a  truer  word," 
agreed  Mrs.  Brown,  with  emphasis;  "never;  and 
you  cannot  say  it  too  often." 

The  other  acknowledged  this  compliment  by  an 
inclination  of  her  best  cap. 

"  I  always  say,"  continued  Mrs.  Brown,  "  that  I 
admire  nothing  more  than  the  way  your  young  peo- 
ple are  brought  up,  to  despise  mere  outside  things 
and  to  cultivate  their  higher  tastes." 

Mrs.  Cottle  looked  pleased.  It  is  always  pleasant 
when  we  are  publicly  praised  for  excellencies  in  which 
we  are  deficient. 

"  I  try  to  train  my  girls  genteelly,"  she  said,  "  and 
to  make  them  think  of  intellectual  matters,  such  as 
geography  or  history  or  the  acrostics  in  the  weekly 
papers.  But  I  have  been  rather  vexed  lately  by  see- 
ing that  they  are  inclined  to  be  friendly  with  the  new 
organist's  granddaughter;  and  I  cannot  feel  that  a 
girl  who  lives  in  that  common  little  house,  and  gets 
her  own  living,  is  a  suitable  friend  for  my  dear  chil- 
dren, who  have  been  so  carefully  brought  up,  with 
no  expense  spared  on  their  education." 

Mrs.  Brown  nodded  her  approval.  "  You  are 
quite  right.  One  cannot  be  too  careful  in  selecting 
companions  for  young  girls ;  and  I  know  how  anx- 
ious you  always  are  that  your  two  should  have  every 
advantage." 

"  Miss  Harland  is  an  attractive  young  creature," 
remarked  Miss  Barber  tentatively. 

Mrs.  Brown  crushed  her  at  once.  "  Handsome 
is  as  handsome  does,  Maria  Barber ;  and  you  are  old 


4O  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

enough  to  know  that  without  wanting  me  to  teach 
you." 

As  it  happened,  five-and-forty  years  of  handsome- 
doing  without  handsome-being  had  taught  poor, 
plain,  little  Maria  that,  though  the  essence  of  the  two 
states  may  be  the  same,  the  effects  are  extremely 
diverse ;  but  she  knew  better  than  to  expound  this 
theory  to  the  friends  of  her  girlhood. 

"  Don't  you  think  it  would  be  nice  if  we  had  a 
little  music  ?  "  said  the  hostess,  rustling  down  the 
room  to  the  piano.  "  Maria  Barber,  my  love,  will 
you  sing  '  She  Wore  a  Wreath  of  Roses  '  ?  " 

Maria  simpered.  "  Won't  some  one  else  com- 
mence the  evening's  entertainment,  dear  Mrs.  Wei- 
ford  ?  I  hardly  like  to  be  the  first." 

"  Very  well,  my  dear,  just  as  you  like,"  answered 
Mrs.  Welford,  who  was  nothing  if  not  indulgent ; 
"  perhaps  Mr.  Morgan  will  be  kind  enough  to  play 
something  for  us." 

"  Certainly,  madam ;  I  shall  be  delighted,"  said 
the  organist,  going  to  the  piano.  There  was  no 
doubt  that  Septimus  Morgan  was  a  remarkably  hand- 
some man ;  it  was  from  him  that  his  daughter  had 
inherited  the  wonderful  beauty  which  had  captivated 
the  heart  of  Lord  Harland's  only  son. 

Septimus  played  one  of  Beethoven's  sonatas,  and 
played  it  exquisitely ;  but  he  might  as  well  have 
paved  a  pig-sty  with  mother-o'-pearl,  for  all  the 
thanks  he  received.  Instrumental  music  was  not  the 
fashion  in  Sunnydale ;  especially  when  it  was  of  so 
abstruse  a  character  that  the  ladies  of  the  party  could 
not  carry  on  a  humming  accompaniment  under  their 
breath  during  the  whole  of  the  performance,  nor  the 
gentlemen  beat  time  with  their  feet.  But,  as  it 
never  occurred  to  anybody  that  silence  was  an  ingre- 


THE  WELFORDS'  PARTY.  4I 

dient  in  the  good  manners  of  an  audience,  Mr.  Mor- 
gan's admirable  rendering  of  Beethoven  was-  not 
nearly  as  great  a  nuisance  as  it  might  have  been. 

After  Mrs.  Welford  had  duly  planted  the  organ- 
ist at  the  piano,  and  so  washed  her  hands  of  him,  as 
she  thought,  for  the  time  being,  she  joined  the  group 
of  ladies  by  the  fire. 

"  I  saw  you  at  church  on  Sunday  morning,  Mrs. 
Cottle,"  she  began ;  "  and  I  want  to  know  what  you 
think  of  the  new  collection-bags,  or  rather  I  suppose 
I  ought  to  call  them  alms-bags.  Julia  said  to  me 
only  this  morning,  '  Mamma,  it  is  very  old-fash- 
ioned to  talk  of  collections ;  alms  is  the  proper  ex- 
pression.' But  we  get  very  old-fashioned  without 
the  young  folks  to  teach  us,  don't  we  ? "  And 
Mrs.  Welford  laughed  her  stout  and  comfortable 
laugh. 

But  the  mention  of  the  alms-bags  had  touched 
too  serious  a  chord  in  the  mind  of  Mrs.  Cottle  for 
any  levity  to  be  possible  to  her;  so  she  replied 
sternly : 

"  I  did  not  approve  of  them  at  all,  Mrs.  Welford 
— not  at  all;  and  I  wonder  how  Mr.  Bailey  could 
have  countenanced  such  things." 

"  Take  my  word  for  it,  they  are  the  thin  end  of 
the  wedge,"  added  Mrs.  Brown,  with  much  sorrow  of 
heart  and  some  confusion  of  metaphor. 

"  At  first  when  I  saw  them  I  thought  of  leaving 
the  church  altogether,  and  driving  every  Sunday 
morning  into  Trawley,  where  they  have  collection- 
plates,"  continued  Mrs.  Cottle ;  "  nice,  straightfor- 
ward things,  you  know,  where  all  is  open  and  above- 
board,  and  there  is  no  mystery ;  but  my  husband  said 
that  if  I  went  to  service  at  Trawley  I  should  have  to 
walk,  as  he  wasn't  going  to  have  his  horse  out  on 
4 


42  A  DOUBLE   THREAD. 

a  Sunday  for  the  sake  of  all  the  collections  in  the 
country." 

Mrs.  Brown  looked  pityingly  at  Mrs.  Cottle. 
"  That  is  the  worst  of  men,"  she  remarked ;  "  they 
are  so  selfish." 

The  late  Mr.  Brown  had  not  numbered  selfishness 
among  the  mistakes  of  his  earthly  career;  but  this 
was  more  his  misfortune  than  his  fault.  Life  with 
Mrs.  Brown  rendered  unselfishness  a  compulsory 
virtue. 

"  What  does  Mr.  Welford  think  of  them?"  Mrs. 
Cottle  further  inquired. 

"  Oh !  my  dear,  fortunately  he  was  so  much  oc- 
cupied in  seeing  that  the  new  organist  didn't  intro- 
duce any  innovations  into  the  service,  that  he  quite 
overlooked  the  bags.  And  I  said  to  Julia  afterwards, 
'  Whatever  you  do,  don't  call  your  papa's  attention 
to  them,  and  as  likely  as  not  he'll  never  notice  there 
is  any  change.'  And  he  hasn't." 

"  I  think  you  acted  wisely,"  said  Mrs.  Cottle. 

Mrs.  Welford  smiled.  "  Bless  you !  I  haven't 
been  married  for  thirty  years  without  learning  a  thing 
or  two ;  and  one  of  them  is,  that  it  is  dangerous  for 
a  woman  to  try  to  throw  dust  in  a  man's  eyes.  But 
if  the  dust  happens  to  be  there,  she  should  let  well 
alone,  and  thank  heaven  for  it." 

"  I  do  not  like  to  make  mischief,  nor  to  bear  false 
witness  against  my  neighbours ;  so  perhaps  I  had 
better  say  no  more,"  said  Mrs.  Brown,  in  a  voice  cal- 
culated to  rouse  curiosity  in  the  breast  of  an  oyster. 

The  heads  of  the  three  other  ladies  congregated 
together  as  if  they  had  been  the  feet  in  a  pigeon-pie. 

"  What  is  it,  dear  Mrs.  Brown  ?  "  asked  the  host- 
ess ;  "  you  may  rest  assured  that  whatever  you  tell 
us  will  go  no  farther." 


THE   WELFORDS'   PARTY. 


43 


"  Indeed,  no,"  added  Miss  Barber,  flushing  with 
interest.  The  little  spinster  dearly  loved  a  morsel  of 
gossip. 

Mrs.  Brown  pursed  up  her  mouth  with  an  air  of 
infinite  mystery.  "  Of  course,  it  may  not  be  true," 
she  murmured ;  "  such  false  reports  do  get  about, 
and  I  am  sure  I  never  can  imagine  how." 

"  Nor  can  I,"  agreed  Mrs.  Cottle,  with  a  sorrowful 
shake  of  the  head ;  "  it  is  shocking  how  rumours  are 
spread,  without  any  foundation  of  truth;  and  yet 
one  never  can  trace  them.  But  what  was  it  that  you 
heard,  Mrs.  Brown?" 

Mrs.  Brown  coughed,  and  looked  reproachfully 
towards  the  piano,  which  was  a  little  too  loud  just 
then  for  her  stage  whispers.  Beethoven  apparently 
had  forgotten  himself  for  the  moment.  Then — as 
the  sonata  gradually  subsided — she  said,  in  an  omi- 
nous yet  almost  inaudible  voice : 

"  I  hear  that  there  are  four  different  sets  of  col- 
lection-bags, in  four  different  colours,  for  various  fes- 
tivals of  the  Church." 

There  was  a  moment's  pause  of  horror,  and  then 
Miss  Barber  gasped :  "  I  never  heard  such  a  thing 
in  my  life — never !  " 

"  I  knew  you  would  be  shocked,"  replied  the  in- 
formant with  pride,  as  if  to  be  shocked  were  the  chief 
end  of  man — or,  rather,  of  woman.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  in  Sunnydale  it  was,  as  it  is  in  all  small  villages. 

The  human  soul — even  if  it  be  encased  in  a  femi- 
nine body — is  supposed  to  possess  infinite  possibili- 
ties :  the  possibilities  of  English  village  life  are,  to 
put  it  mildly,  finite ;  and  when  the  infinite  puts  on 
finality  to  the  extent  of  devoting  its  powers  to  the 
contemplation  and  invention  and  publication  of  its 
neighbour's  affairs,  much  mischief  is  done,  and  cer- 


44  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

tain  things  get  broken — such  as  hearts  and  spirits  and 
the  Ninth  Commandment. 

It  is  but  fair  to  add  that  the  human  souls,  where- 
by this  mischief  is  wrought,  mean  no  harm ;  they  are 
merely  amusing  themselves  by  repeating  what  they 
have  seen  or  heard  or  imagined,  and  amusement  is  a 
necessity  of  their  being.  May  they  be  rewarded  ac- 
cording to  their  intentions,  and  not  according  to 
their  work. 

Mrs.  Welford  glanced  anxiously  towards  her  hus- 
band. "  I  do  hope  that  James  didn't  hear ;  he  makes 
such  a  fuss  about  things.  I  only  said  to  him  the 
other  day  when  he  was  worrying  about  something  in 
the  church, '  James/  I  said, '  if  you'd  say  your  prayers 
with  your  eyes  shut,  as  every  good  Christian  ought 
to  do,  it  would  be  better  for  all  parties ;  but  the  fact 
is  you  are  so  busy  watching  out  for  the  clergyman 
to  disobey  the  rubric,  that  you  have  no  time  to  see 
whether  you  yourself  are  obeying  the  Ten  Command- 
ments.' Eh,  dear,  dear!  It  is  bad  enough  keeping 
things  from  the  men  in  your  own  house  on  a  week- 
day ;  but  if  you  have  got  to  do  it  in  in  church  on  a 
Sunday  as  well,  where  does  the  day  of  rest  come  in,  I 
should  like  to  know  ? "  The  good  woman  spoke 
feelingly.  Once  upon  a  time  small  stools  had  been 
substituted  for  large  hassocks  in  the  church  where 
her  father  had  worshipped  for  many  years,  and  this 
reformation  had  broken  his  heart. 

"  I  couldn't  hav  :  believed  it,  Mrs.  Brown,  if  any 
one  but  you  had  told  me,"  said  Mrs.  Cottle. 

Mrs.  Brown  was  now  thoroughly  enjoying  herself. 
"  That  is  not  all,"  she  added :  "  I  hear  that  there  are 
also  four  different-coloured  bookmarkers  to  be  used 
in  reading  the  lessons;  and  if  that  isn't  Popery,  I 
should  like  to  know  what  is."  Now  Mrs.  Brown 


THE  WELFORDS'   PARTY. 


45 


was  to  Popery  what  a  hazel  twig  is  to  water:  she 
could  discover  it  in  most  unlikely  and  most  unlooked- 
for  places. 

There  was  another  pause  of  breathless  astonish- 
ment, and  then  Mrs.  Cottle  gasped  out :  "  Well  I 
never!  It  is  stumbling-blocks  such  as  this  which 
undermine  the  Church  of  England."  Mrs.  Cottle 
became  a  very  Joan  of  Arc  when  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land was  in  danger,  so  ready  was  she  to  go  forth  as 
its  champion.  She  had  been  born  and  brought  up  a 
Nonconformist,  and  spent  her  later  years  in  endeav- 
ouring to  wash  out  this  youthful  stain.  Even  now 
early  habit  was  so  strong  upon  her  that  she  some- 
times spoke  of  her  parish  priest  as  "  the  minister  " ; 
but  when  this  occurred  she  speedily  corrected  herself, 
and  trusted  that  no  one  had  overheard  the  slip. 

"  I  am  not  narrow  or  bigoted,"  said  Mrs.  Brown, 
"  and  I  thank  Providence  for  it."  She  had  a  curious 
habit  of  thanking  Providence  for  spiritual  blessings 
which  in  her  case  had  been  signally  withheld.  "  But 
I  cannot  approve  of  anything  that  is  different  from 
what  it  was  when  I  was  a  child.  What  was  good 
enough  for  me  then  is  good  enough  for  me  now,  I 
say;  and  I  really  could  not  conscientiously  read  a 
Bible  that  was  distorted  by  bookmarkers  with  Ro- 
manistic  tendencies.  They  may  preach  what  doctrines 
they  like,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned ;  I  have  nothing 
to  say  about  that,  as  I  am  thankful  to  say  I  have  al- 
ways been  broad  and  enlightened;  but  one  must 
draw  the  line  somewhere,  and  I  draw  it  at  innova- 
tions like  these.  In  fact,  my  impression  is  that  the 
Pope  himself  is  at  the  bottom  of  this."  Mrs.  Brown's 
attitude  towards-  His  Holiness  was  ultra-Protestant. 
She  believed  that  he  was  a  giant,  and  she  derived  her 
ideas  of  his  personal  appearance  entirely  from  the 


46  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

illustrations  to  the  "  Pilgrim's  Progress."  Further, 
she  regarded  him  as  the  first  of  the  three  great  Pow- 
ers of  Darkness — the  second  being  Satan  himself, 
and  the  third  whatever  statesman  happened  to  be,  for 
the  time  being,  at  the  head  of  the  Liberal  party. 

"  Eh,  dear,  dear !  "  sighed  Mrs.  Welford.  "  I 
wonder  what  we  are  coming  to.  This  news  about  the 
bookmarkers  is  very  sad  indeed."  Her  own  daily 
portion  was  duly  advertised  to  her  by  means  of  a 
bookmarker  of  perforated  cardboard,  whereon  the  de- 
sign "  No  Cross  No  Crown  "  had  been  laboriously 
executed  by  Percy  at  the  tender  age  of  six.  Conse- 
quently perforated  cardboard — being  what  she  was 
accustomed  to — was  to  her  the  only  material  where- 
in really  acceptable  bookmarkers  could  be  made. 

"  It  is  extremely  painful !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Brown : 
"  in  fact  so  deeply  do  I  feel  it,  that  I  am  inclined  to 
take  upon  myself  to  speak  to  Mr.  Bailey  upon  the 
subject." 

"  Oh !  1  should  hardly  venture  to  take  so  bold  a 
step  as  that,"  expostulated  Mrs.  Cottle,  with  the  rev- 
erence of  the  neophyte. 

"  I  only  hope  James  won't  notice  them,"  groaned 
poor  Mrs.  Welford ;  "  there'll  be  a  fine  to-do  if  he 
does.  But  maybe  he  won't,  as  fortunately  his  sight 
isn't  as  good  as  it  was,  and  I  generally  contrive  to 
mislay  his  spectacles  on  a  Sunday  morning  just  be- 
fore starting  to  church.  It  is  rather  troublesome 
finding  a  new  place  to  mislay  them  in  every  Sunday ; 
but  it  saves  such  a  lot  of  bother  that  it  is  worth  the 
trouble." 

"  Whoever  lives  to  see  it,"  Mrs.  Brown  repeated, 
"  will  find  out  that  I  am  right,  and  that  this  is  all  the 
Pope's  doing.  He  has  had  a  finger  in  this  pie,  I  am 
certain."  If  Mrs.  Brown  strenuously  denied  the  doc- 


THE   WELFORDS'    PARTY. 


47 


trine  of  Papal  Infallibility,  she  made  up  for  it  by 
preaching  the  omnipresence  of  His  Holiness  with  a 
fervour  which  his  most  devout  followers  might  have 
envied.  She  had  once  had  a  cook  who  was  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  and  when  this 
domestic  made  culinary  mistakes — as  even  Protestant 
cooks  will  sometimes  do — Mrs.  Brown  regarded  such 
mistakes  as  signs  of  some  far-reaching  plot  origi- 
nated by  the  Order  of  Jesuits.  "  Where  there  is 
Popery  there  are  Jesuits,"  she  continued,  "  and  where 
there  are  Jesuits  there  are  plots ;  and  I  shouldn't  be 
surprised  to  learn  that  all  this  bookmarker  business 
is  a  regular  plot  to  overthrow  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land." 

At  this  moment  the  sonata  came  to  an  end,  and 
Mr.  Morgan  was  again  thrown  on  the  hands  of  his 
hostess.  So,  with  a  supreme  effort,  she  turned  from 
the  Church  to  the  World,  and  requested  Miss  Barber 
to  render  "  She  Wore  a  Wreath  of  Roses,"  while  she 
herself  sat  down  beside  the  organist. 

"  I  hope  you  like  Sunnydale,"  she  began  pleas- 
antly ;  "  it  is  considered  a  very  pretty  place,  but  for 
my  part  1  like  a  little  more  life.  I  was  brought  up 
in  Trawley,  you  know,  and  I  have  often  remarked  to 
my  husband,  '  Country  life  may  be  very  agreeable, 
James,  to  those  that  are  accustomed  to  it,  but  town 
life  for  me.'  " 

Septimus  Morgan  smiled.  "  My  wife  will  agree 
with  you,  Mrs.  Welford,  for  she  loves  nothing  so  well 
as  shops ;  but  I  am  afraid  that  Ethel  and  I  must  con- 
fess to  much  simpler  tastes." 

"  I  expect  you  like  views  and  things  of  that  kind 
— some  people  do ;  but  a  well-furnished  shop-win- 
dow is  worth  all  the  landscapes  in  the  world,  to  my 
thinking.  It  seems  to  me  that  fine  scenery  is  like 


48  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

fine  music — you  have  to  fill  it  up  with  your  own  fine 
thoughts  or  there  is  no  fineness  in  it.  But  shop- 
windows  are  shop-windows,  and  are  complete  in 
themselves,  even  to  the  prices." 

"  I  think  I  know  what  you  mean,"  answered  the 
organist  gently.  One  of  Mr.  Morgan's  great  charms 
was  that  he  always  took  the  trouble  to  enter  into 
other  people's  feelings  and  to  look  at  things  from 
other  people's  point  of  view ;  "  you  mean  that  you 
prefer  pleasures  and  interests  which  are  independent 
of  the  aid  of  imagination.  Yes,  I  understand,  and  it 
is  very  interesting  to  me  to  see  how  persons  with  dif- 
ferent temperaments  look  at  life." 

Mrs.  Welford  felt  distinctly  fluttered.  It  was  not 
often  that  people  took  the  trouble  to  be  interested  in 
her  views  about  anything.  She  never  dreamt  of 
complaining  of  this ;  she  took  it  as  a  matter  of  course 
that  ia  her  own  eyes — and  in  the  eyes  of  everybody 
else — she  was  the  mistress  of  Fairlawn  and  nothing 
more.  Many  middle-aged  women  accept  the  posi- 
tion of  mere  housekeepers ;  but  that  does  not  mean 
that  they  like  it. 

During  the  evening  Percy  frequently  anchored 
himself  by  the  side  of  Ethel  Harland,  and  leaned  over 
the  corner  of  her  chair  in  the  attitude  of  an  old-fash- 
ioned photograph,  while  he  indulged  in  such  conver- 
sation as  he  deemed  appropriate  from  the  lips  of  a 
genius  into  the  ear  of  a  beauty. 

"  If  I  am  not  mistaken,"  he  began,  "an  evening 
such  as  this  must  be  as  uncongenial  to  you  as  it  is  to 
me,  Miss  Harland.  You  and  I  can  have  no  sym- 
pathy with  all  these  people ;  and  if  we  showed  our 
real  selves  to  them  they  would  not  understand  us. 
Yet  it  is  weary  work  always  to  wear  a  mask." 

The  idea  of  Percy's  wearing  a  mask  in  the  midst 


THE   WELFORDS'   PARTY. 


49 


of  a  circle  which  knew  his  every  mature  foible  as  it 
had  followed  his  every  childish  complaint  was  not 
without  its  amusing  side ;  but  Ethel  Harland  had  not 
lived  long  enough  in  Sunnydale  to  know  this.  That 
is  one  of  the  advantages  of  living  in  one  neighbour- 
hood for  some  time — one  knows  what  is  funny  and 
what  is  not.  It  takes  longer  to  learn  the  jokes  of  a 
place  than  to  become  a  naturalized  citizen. 

"  Then  why  wear  it?  "  inquired  Ethel. 

"  Because  it  would  be  sacrilege  to  throw  open  the 
recesses  of  one's  spirit  to  people  such  as  these.  For 
years  I  have  longed  for  congenial  companionship, 
but  at  last  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  soul- 
solitude  is  to  be  my  portion." 

"  That  must  be  wretched !  " 

"  Most  things  are  wretched  in  this  world,  but 
most  things  can  be  borne.  I  never  talk  about  my 
loneliness ;  but  when  I  die  I  mean  to  have  '  Misun- 
derstood '  engraven  on  my  tombstone,"  said  Percy, 
with  a  sad  smile. 

"  Do  you  ?  I  mean  to  have  '  Miss  Harland  '  en- 
graven on  mine,"  retorted  Ethel,  and  her  smile  was 
not  so  sad. 

"  Ah !  you  trifle ;  but  you  have  not  experienced 
my  sense  of  aloneness.  It  is  terrible  to  live  in  a 
world  of  shadows,  who  know  not  why  you  laugh  or 
why  you  weep." 

It  seemed  inappropriate  to  describe  a  circle, 
wherein  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Welford  were  the  principal 
figures,  as  "  a  world  of  shadows  "  ;  but  the  language 
of  poetry  must  not  be  taken  too  literally. 

"  You  are  like  the  foreigner  who  meant  that  he 
was  '  terribly  alone '  but  said  that  he  was  '  awfully 
single ' ;  nevertheless  it  is  horrid  to  be  with  friends 
who  take  one's  comedies  tragically  and  one's  trage- 


5Q  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

dies  comically,"  agreed  Ethel ;  "  and  I  always  say 
that  people  who  laugh  at  the  same  things  are  more  to 
one  another  than  people  who  cry  at  the  same  things." 

This  was  a  little  too  subtle  for  Percy — especially 
as  laughter  was  not  his  strong  point. 

"  That  is  a  superficial  view  of  the  case,"  he  said 
in  his  most  didactic  manner :  "  identity  of  taste  as  to 
what  is  humorous  is  no  indication  of  real  sympathy." 

"  Don't  you  think  so  ?  To  me  it  would  be  an  in- 
dication of  the  deepest  sympathy.  Of  course  hu- 
mour and  pathos  are  very  nearly  allied,  but  I  think 
that  humour  is  the  more  subtle  sense  of  the  two ;  and 
that,  therefore,  two  minds  which  agree  as  to  what  is 
humorous  are  more  closely  akin  than  two  minds 
which  only  agree  as  to  what  is  pathetic." 

Ethel  was  extremely  fond  of  analysing  emotions. 

Percy  shook  his  head.  "  Believe  me,  you  are 
wrong,  Miss  Harland ;  totally  wrong." 

But  Ethel  was  interested  in  the  subject,  and  would 
not  be  silenced  just  because  a  man  said  she  was 
wrong;  which,  of  course,  was  foolish  of  her. 

"  Take,  for  instance,  the  difference  between 
classes,"  she  persisted ;  "  no  two  classes  of  society 
agree  as  to  what  is  humorous ;  yet  all  classes,  broad- 
ly speaking,  agree  as  to  what  is  pathetic.  Two  peo- 
ple, very  far  apart  in  the  social  scale,  will  cry  at  the 
same  thing ;  but  if  two  people  laugh  at  the  same 
thing,  you  may  conclude  that  socially  they  are  pretty 
much  on  a  par.  Don't  you  see  what  I  mean  ?  " 

"  Perfectly,"  replied  Percy,  who  didn't  in  the 
least ;  "  and  I  say  that — like  all  women — you  are  in- 
clined to  be  shallow  and  superficial  in  your  views  of 
life.  There  is  a  strong  melancholy  strain  in  my  na- 
ture, as  I  suppose  there  must  be  in  the  nature  of  any 
thinking  man;  and  therefore  sad  things  touch  me 


THE   WELFORDS'   PARTY.  t>l 

far  more  quickly  than  do  amusing  ones.  You,  with 
your  lighter  disposition,  will  perhaps  not  understand 
me." 

"  Perhaps  not,"  answered  Ethel,  though  she  did 
perfectly. 

"  Women's  tears  appeal  to  me  far  more  than 
women's  smiles,"  continued  Percy,  who  had  never 
seen  a  woman  cry  in  his  life,  except  his  mother  when 
the  cook  gave  notice. 

"  But  the  two  are  so  near  akin." 

Percy  raised  his  eyebrows  in  surprise.  "  My  dear 
Miss  Harland,  they  are  the  exact  opposite  of  each 
other — the  two  extremes  of  the  gamut  of  human 
emotion." 

Ethel  perceived  that  to  such  a  mind  as  Percy's 
argument  was  of  no  avail ;  so  she  wisely  changed  the 
subject,  and  asked  if  he  had  read  anything  of  inter- 
est lately. 

"  I  hardly  ever  read,"  he  replied  gloomily ; 
"  there  are  so  few  books  worth  reading." 

Ethel  laughed ;  she  could  not  help  it.  "  I  am 
afraid  I  shall  shock  you  then,  for  I  read  nearly  every 
new  book  that  comes  out — that  is  to  say,  as  many  as 
I  have  time  for." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  you  read  modern  novels  ?  " 

"  Yes/' 

Percy  shuddered.  "  No  modern  novelist  can 
write  English." 

"  I'm  awfully  fond  of  poetry,  too,"  added  Ethel. 

"  There  are  only  two  English  poets — Crabbe  and 
Blake." 

"  I  confess  I  find  a  good  many  more ;  but  I  sup- 
pose I  am  one  of  the  people  who  are  easily  pleased," 
remarked  Miss  Harland,  with  a  twinkle  in  her  eye. 

"  Ah !  I  envy  you ;  it  is  my  fate  to  be  only  satis- 


52  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

fied  with  perfection,  and  my  foible  to  see  faults  with 
terrible  clearness." 

"  It  must  feel  nice  to  be  so  clever  and  to  know  so 
much  !  "  said  Ethel  sweetly. 

Percy  thought  he  had  never  met  a  more  simple- 
minded  voung  woman,  and  he  began  to  enjoy  him- 
self. 

Ethel  thought  she  had  never  met  a  more  simple- 
minded  young  man,  and  she  began  to  enjoy  herself 
also. 

They  went  in  to  supper  together,  and  became  very 
friendly.  Percy  expounded  his  views  upon  art  as 
well  as  upon  literature,  and  showed  how  painters 
could  not  paint  any  more  than  writers  could  write. 
Ethel  drew  him  out,  and  drank  in  all  he  said  with 
delight.  As  far  as  they  two  were  concerned  it  really 
was  a  most  successful  party. 

On  the  whole  the  Welfords'  evening  passed  off 
well. 

The  hosts  felt  as  if  they  had  paid  a  bill  and  got  the 
receipt ;  and  that  is  always  a  comfortable  sensation. 

Mrs.  Brown  and  her  circle  felt  that  the  conversa- 
tional "  stock  "  which  they  had  collected  on  that  oc- 
casion would,  when  properly  watered  down  by  addi- 
tions of  improvements  drawn  from  the  stores  of  their 
own  imaginations,  make  sufficient  gossip  to  feed  a 
whole  village  for  a  week. 

And  Ethel  Harland  reproduced,  for  the  benefit 
of  her  grandparents,  the  principal  characters  in  Sun- 
nydale,  till  the  "  poky "  little  house  rang  with 
laughter. 

Percy  Welford  managed  to  see  Ethel  frequently 
after  this.  She  was  the  most  attractive  girl  he  had 
ever  met,  and  she  had  the  effect  that  the  most  at- 
tractive girl  a  man  has  ever  met  usually  has.  Percy 


THE   WELFORDS'   PARTY.  53 

felt  that  she  appreciated  him — which  was  quite  true ; 
fortunately  for  the  poor  young  man's  peace  of  mind 
he  had  no  idea  how  true  it  was. 

It  happened  that  a  few  days  after  this  Percy  ran 
up  to  London  on  business,  and  when  he  came  back 
he  informed  his  mother  that  he  had  accidentally  come 
across  an  old  schoolfellow — Jack  Le  Mesurier  by 
name — and  invited  the  same  down  to  Fairlawn  for 
a  week. 

"  Who  is  he?  "  asked  Julia. 

"  He  is  a  nephew  of  Sir  Roger  Le  Mesurier,  of 
Greystone." 

"  Then  he  is  very  well  off,"  remarked  Mr.  Wei- 
ford,  who  never  lost  sight  of  the  main  chance. 

"  Oh  no,  he  isn't,"  answered  Percy.  "  Of  course 
Greystone  is  a  fine  place,  but  it  is  not  entailed ;  and 
though  Sir  Roger  is  rich  enough,  Jack  is  extremely 
poor.  His  father  quarrelled  with  his  family  and  was 
cut  off  with  a  shilling.  And  now  Jack  has  nothing 
but  his  pay." 

"Then  won't  the  title  come  to  him?"  inquired 
Julia. 

"  Yes ;  that  must.  But  he  will  have  nothing  with 
it,  as  he  and  Sir  Roger  are  not  on  friendly  terms,  and 
Sir  Roger  can  leave  the  estate  and  the  fortune  as  he 
likes.  So  Jack  is  not  a  man  to  be  envied,  in  spite  of 
his  old  name  and  family." 

".He'll  have  to  marry  money — that  is  what  he'll 
have  to  do ;  he  ought  to  get  something  pretty  con- 
siderable in  return  for  making  a  young  woman  into 
'  my  lady,'  "  said  Mr.  Welford. 

"  Le  Mesurier  is  a  handsome  man,"  remarked 
Percy  gloomily,  "  but  he  has  no  soul." 

"  My  dear,  how  can  you  tell  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Wel- 
ford, with  her  usual  good  sense. 


54 


A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 


"  Oh !  he  talks  about  low  things,  such  as  horses 
and  dogs,  and  has  no  finer  feelings — no  subtler  in- 
stincts." 

"  He'll  be  none  the  worse  for  that,"  said  Mr.  Wei- 
ford.  "  Girls  like  men  who  talk  about  horses  and 
dogs — they  think  it  is  manly,  and  girls  with  money 
marry  the  sort  of  men  they  like." 

"  While  girls  without  money  have  to  marry  the 
sort  of  men  who  like  them,  I  suppose,"  added  Julia. 

Her  father  nodded.  "  Precisely,  my  dear ;  beg- 
gars mustn't  b'e  choosers,  you  know." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

JACK    LE   MESURIER. 

"  If  we'd  fail  not  in  the  quest, 

We  must  find  the  way 
With  the  one  we  love  the  best ; 
So  the  children  say." 

JACK  LE  MESURIER  came  down  to  Sunnydale  to 
stay  with  his  old  schoolfellow,  Percy  Welford,  and  he 
found  the  life  at  Fairlawn  quite  a  new  phase  in  his 
experience. 

He  and  the  Welfords  had  absolutely  nothing  in 
common ;  they  looked  at  life  from  totally  different 
standpoints,  and  they  moved  along  parallel  lines 
which  would  never  meet,  even  in  infinity.  Like  all 
persons  to  whom  refinement  is  an  acquired  taste, 
Percy  and  his  sister  had  it  in  an  aggravated — one 
might  almost  say  in  an  inflammatory — form ;  they 
were  shocked  at  simplicity,  and  regarded  as  vulgar 
what  was  merely  natural. 

Jack  inwardly  designated  his  former  schoolfellow 
a  "  bounder,"  and  decided  to  cut  his  visit  to  Sunny- 
dale  as  short  as  was  compatible  with  good  manners ; 
but  the  gods  saw  otherwise,  and  Jack  saw  Ethel  Har- 
land,  and  therefore  he  stayed  on  till  he  was  called  to 
town  on  business — that  is  to  say,  till  Ethel  had  gone 
back  to  London. 

55 


56  A   DOUBLE    THREAD. 

Julia  admired  Captain  Le  Mesurier  immensely, 
and  was  extremely  anxious  that  he  should  likewise 
admire  her.  But — as  was  usual  with  Julia — she  went 
the  wrong  way  to  work. 

In  the  first  place,  she  confided  her  troubles  to  him, 
and  tried  to  enlist  his  sympathy.  From  the  days  of 
Desdemona  downwards,  women,  as  a  rule,  like  the 
men  whom  they  pity ;  men,  on  the  contrary,  only  pity 
the  women  whom  they  like.  Consequently  Jack  was 
bored  to  death  by  the  recital  of  Julia's  difficulties  at 
home,  and  thought  how  tiresome  it  was  that  so  good- 
looking  a  girl  was  not  more  amusing. 

In  the  second  place,  Julia  never  lost  a  chance  of 
"  scoring "  in  conversation ;  and  the  woman  who 
"  scores  "  deserves  all  the  hatred  that  she  gets.  Of 
course,  it  is  clever  to  say  sharp  things ;  but  it  is 
generally  far  cleverer  not  to  say  them.  Never- 
theless, it  often  takes  more  than  six-and-twenty  years 
to  acquire  the  cleverness  which  can  conceal  clev- 
erness. 

And,  thirdly  and  lastly,  Julia  Welford  was  not 
wanting  in  acidity ;  and  acidity  in  women — as  in  wine 
— is  a  quality  which  lowers  the  value  of  the  article  al- 
together. 

After  Captain  Le  Mesurier  had  been  two  days  at 
Fairlawn,  and  was  making  plans  of  escape,  Percy 
suggested  that  skating  on  the  pool  in  Sunnydale 
Park  might  prove  an  agreeable  pastime ;  and  Jack, 
longing  for  anything  to  relieve  the  tedium  of  the 
Welfords'  instructive  conversations,  jumped  at  the 
idea.  But  Julia  frowned. 

"  You  will  derive  no  pleasure  from  it,  Captain 
Le  Mesurier,"  she  said.  "  The  ice  is  extremely 
rough,  and  there  are  always  such  common  people 
there." 


JACK   LE    MESURIER.  57 

"  Oh !  I  don't  mind  the  people ;  and  as  for  the 
ice,  it  can't  be  as  bad  as  I  am." 

"  I  should  have  imagined  that  you  would  be  fond 
of  skating;  you  always  consider  physical  so  much 
more  important  than  mental  exercise,  that  I  wonder 
you  have  left  any  branch  of  it  neglected,"  said  Julia, 
unable  to  resist  the  temptation  of  giving  Jack  a  dig. 

He  smiled.  "  I  used  to  be  all  right  on  the  ice 
seven  years  ago ;  but  we  don't  get  much  skating  in 
India,  you  see." 

"  Oh !  of  course  not ;  I  forgot  for  the  moment 
that  you  had  lived  there  so  long." 

Julia  could  not  bear  to  be  in  the  wrong,  so  she  felt 
distinctly  irritated  against  her  brother's  friend ;  and 
his  next  remark  did  not  serve  to  allay  that  irritation. 

"  Your  brother  has  been  telling  me  all  about  Miss 
Harland.  What  a  romantic  story  it  is !  " 

"  I  don't  perceive  much  romance  in  it,  I  am 
bound  to  say." 

Captain  Le  Mesurier  raised  his  eyebrows  in  sur- 
prise. "  Don't  you  ?  It  seems  to  me  awfully  quaint, 
somehow,  to  think  of  one  twin  sister  so  poor  and  the 
other  so  rich.  Just  like  a  novel,  don't  you  know?  " 

"  You  will  not  think  it  so  interesting  when  you 
have  seen  the  parties,"  answered  Julia,  not  knowing 
that  it  is  worse  to  use  such  a  word  as  "  parties  "  than 
never  to  have  read  Browning. 

But  Jack  knew. 

"  I  have  seen  the  other  sister,"  he  said,  rather 
coldly. 

"  And  what  is  she  like,  may  I  ask  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  she  is  extremely  handsome,  and  one  of  the 
best-dressed  girls  in  London." 

"  A  regular  woman  of  fashion,  I  suppose,"  said 
Julia. 

5 


58  A  DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  That's  about  it." 

"  I  must  confess  I  am  not  partial  to  people  of 
that  kind,"  remarked  Miss  Welford  primly. 

Jack  repressed  a  shudder.  What  awful  words  the 
woman  used,  he  thought. 

"  There  is  no  real  culture  to  be  found  in  fashion's 
votaries,"  continued  Julia. 

"  Isn't  there?"  said  Jack. 

"  No ;  they  have  no  time  for  study,  and  it  is  by 
intellectual  pursuits  only  that  true  refinement  is  ob- 
tained. I  cannot  tell  you  how  I  delight  in  study, 
Captain  Le  Mesurier;  it  is  my  one  recreation.  I 
belong  to  four  different  reading  societies,  and  I  have 
never  been  fined  once  for  not  reading  my  full  amount 
every  day." 

"  Really.     How  awfully  clever  of  you !  " 

Julia  bridled.  She  thought  that  when  a  man 
called  a  woman  clever  it  was  a  sign  of  admiration. 
She  had  yet  much  to  learn. 

"  Yes,  Captain ;  each  society  entails  upon  its 
members  the  duty  of  reading  an  instructive  book  for 
twenty  consecutive  minutes  every  day,  and  each  of 
the  four  societies  inculcates  a  different  branch  of 
study." 

"  Dear  me !     It  must  be  very  tiring." 

"  No ;  I  do  not  find  it  so.  When  I  commenced 
I  felt  it  somewhat  of  a  tie,  but  now  it  has  become  a 
second  nature  to  me.  In  fact,  I  should  be  quite  lost 
without  it.  But  I  think  it  a  duty  as  well  as  a  delight 
to  cultivate  one's  mind  to  the  utmost  of  one's  powers. 
Don't  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  I  don't ;  at  any  rate,  I  don't  act  up 
to  the  theory.  I'm  a  dreadfully  ignorant  beggar,  you 
know." 

"  I  suppose  we  have  all  something  to  learn,"  said 


JACK   LE   MESURIER.  59 

Miss  Welford  consolingly ;  "  and  if  we  are  only  will- 
ing to  be  taught,  everybody  whom  we  meet  has  some- 
thing to  teach  us.  It  always  appears  to  me  such  a  pity 
to  meet  people  in  society  and  talk  nothing  but  non- 
sense to  them ;  while,  if  only  we  hit  upon  the  correct 
chord,  we  should  be  able  on  both  sides  to  learn  and 
to  teach." 

Jack  smiled.  "  But  don't  you  think  that  it  is 
often  when  we  are  talking  nonsense  that  we  learn 
the  most  ?  It  is  the  women  who  talk  nonsense  to  us 
— not  the  women  who  try  to  instruct  us — that  really 
teach  us  things.  And  there  is  nonsense  and  non- 
sense, you  see." 

"  I  cannot  think  that  talking  nonsense  is  any- 
thing but  a  waste  of  time,"  replied  Julia  severely. 

"  Not  even  clever  nonsense?" 

"  I  never  heard  any  clever  nonsense." 

"  Oh !  I  have ;  and  likewise  sense  that  is  very  far 
from  being  clever." 

In  spite  of  Julia's  protestations,  Percy  escorted 
his  guest  to  the  pool  in  Sunnydale  Park ;  and  the 
scene  exhilarated  and  delighted  Jack,  though  there 
was  really  nothing  remarkable  in  it.  There  were  the 
usual  commonplace  skaters,  who  are  content  to  pur- 
sue the  even  tenor  of  their  way  round  and  round  the 
ice ;  and  the  usual  brilliant  exceptions,  who  perform 
acrobatic  gyrations  round  an  unappetizing  orange ; 
and  the  helpless  and  hopeless  beginners,  who  strug- 
gle on,  by  the  aid  of  a  chair,  with  despair  in  their 
hearts  and  toothache  in  their  feet.  But  it  was  so 
long  since  Jack  had  seen  an  English  winter  scene  that 
it  quite  excited  him.  '-•".-... 

"  Isn't  it  just  like  a  Christmas  card  or  a  Decem- 
ber supplement?  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  My  dear  fellow,  there  is  no  art  in  Christmas 


60  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

cards  nor  in  illustrated  supplements.  I  never  look 
at  such  things." 

"  You  would,  though,  if  you  had  been  out  of 
England  for  seven  years." 

"  Pardon  me,"  argued  Percy ;  "  my  being  out  of 
England  for  a  hundred  years  would  not  make  what 
is  ugly  beautiful,  nor  what  is  beautiful  ugly.  Art  is 
independent  of  circumstance." 

"  Art  may  be,  but  I  am  not,  my  dear  Welford. 
But  who  is  that  girl  skating  past  us  just  now?  She 
is  the  image  of  Elfrida  Harland." 

"That  is  Ethel  Harland— the  girl  I  was  telling 
you  about — your  Miss  Harland's  twin  sister." 

"  Introduce  me,  there's  a  good  fellow.  She  is 
the  most  beautiful  woman  I  ever  saw  in  my  life." 

So  Percy  did  as  he  was  bid,  and  introduced 
Captain  Le  Mesurier  to  Miss  Harland.  And  Jack 
soon  ceased  to  think  of  Ethel  as  the  most  beautiful, 
or  the  most  anything,  woman ;  to  him  she  became 
the  only  woman  in  the  world ;  so  there  was  no  ne- 
cessity for  adjectives,  and  no  possibility  of  compari- 
sons. 

He  had  thought  Elfrida  the  handsomest  woman 
he  had  ever  met,  but  her  cynicism  had  cancelled  to 
some  extent  the  effect  of  her  beauty.  But  here  was  a 
woman  with  Elfrida's  face  and  voice  and  figure,  and 
as  straightforward  and  cheerful  withal  as  the  simplest 
country  maid.  If  Elfrida  had  seemed  as  nice  as  she 
looked,  Jack  would  have  fallen  in  love  with  her; 
Ethel  looked  as  nice  as  Elfrida,  and  seemed  even 
nicer  than  she  looked — therefore  the  result  of  her 
meeting  with  Jack  was  a  foregone  conclusion. 

For  the  rest  of  that  day  these  two  skated  together, 
and  left  poor  Percy — literally  and  figuratively — out 
in  the  cold.  He  bore  it  as  well  as  he  could,  and 


JACK   LE    MESURIER.  6l 

passed  the  time  by  planning  for  himself  an  early  and 
pathetic  death.  But  planning  an  early  death  for  one- 
self— however  effective  from  a  dramatic  point  of 
view — is  chilly  work  with  the  thermometer  in  its 
'teens. 

Jack  and  Ethel  got  on  well  together  from  the 
first.  They  were  not  particularly  brilliant,  from  a 
conversational  point  of  view,  but  they  thoroughly 
amused  each  other ;  and,  besides,  they  were  so  happy 
in  each  other's  company  that  they  did  not  want  amus- 
ing. They  enjoyed  themselves,  and  talked  nonsense 
to  each  other,  and  laughed  at  everything,  like  two 
children ;  and  at  the  end  of  the  day  they  each  men- 
tally divided  their  lives  into  two  equal  parts :  that 
afternoon  being  one,  and  their  whole  preceding  his- 
tories the  other ;  which  is,  after  all,  the  only  propef 
way  of  computing  time. 

When  their  friendship  Was  firmly  established— 
that  is  to  say,  about  twenty  minutes  after  they  had 
been  introduced  to  each  other — Jack  said  : 

"  Do  you  know  that  I've  had  the  pleasure  of  meet- 
ing your  sister?  " 

Ethel  was  immensely  interested  at  once. 

"  Oh !  have  you  really  ?  Do  tell  me  about  her, 
for  I've  never  seen  her." 

"  Not  seen  your  twin  sister  ?  I  never  heard  of 
such  a  thing." 

"  No :  we  were  separated  when  we  were  babies, 
and  haven't  met  since.  My  grandfather,  Lord  Har- 
land,  made  it  a  stipulation  that  we  were  to  be  kept 
completely  apart  before  he  consented  to  adopt  one 
of  us." 

"  Then  does  your  sister  never  write  to  you  ?  " 
asked  Jack. 

"  No  :  we  have  had  nothing  to  do  with  each  other 


62  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

since  we  were  parted  in  our  cradles,  five-and-twenty 
years  ago." 

"  I'm  afraid  you'll  think  me  awfully  inquisitive, 
asking  you  all  these  questions,"  said  Jack  bluntly ; 
"  but  I'm  not  really  meaning  to  be  impertinent — it's 
only  that  I'm  so  tremendously  interested  in  you." 

"  I  understand ;  it  would  never  have  occurred  to 
me  to  call  anything  that  you  did  impertinent." 

Jack  blushed  like  a  girl  at  this  compliment. 

"  Then  you  will  let  me  tell  your  sister  all  about 
you  when  next  I  see  her?  " 

"  Certainly,  if  you  like ;  but  it  won't  make  any 
difference." 

"  Of  course  it  is  awfully  impudent  of  a  rough  fel- 
low like  me  to  criticise  such  a  fine  lady  as  Miss  Har- 
land ;  but  I  cannot  help  feeling  that  if  I  were  in  her 
place  I  should  look  after  you  a  bit.  Surely  now  that 
Lord  Harland  is  dead  she  can  do  as  she  likes." 

Ethel  smiled  rather  sadly.  "  No,  she  can't ;  no- 
body can ;  and  if  you  knew  everything,  I  think  you 
wouldn't  blame  her." 

"  Still,  it  is  rather  hard  on  you  that  she  should 
have  all  the  smooth,  and  you  all  the  rough." 

"  I  suppose  it  is :  I  have  often  longed  to  change 
places  with  my  sister,  I  admit,  my  life  has  been  so 
hard  sometimes  and  so  lonely ;  and  she  has  escaped 
all  the  battles  that  I've  had  to  fight.  But  it  is  baby- 
ish to  want  to  change  places  with  other  people,  don't 
you  think?  Surely  you  are  not  going  to  make  a 
coward  of  me,  and  you  a  soldier !  " 

Jack's  voice  was  very  gentle,  though  his  heart  was 
full  of  anger  against  Elfrida.  "  Heaven  forbid !  But 
I  think  I  should  like  to  fight  some  of  your  battles 
for  you." 

"  That  is  very  nice  of  you !  "  and  Ethel  smiled  up 


JACK   LE   MESURIER.  63 

into  the  kind  face.  "  But  I'm  used  to  fighting  my 
own." 

"  I  know ;  and  that  must  have  been  so  horrid  for 
you,"  answered  Jack,  tugging  at  his  moustache  and 
still  vowing  vengeance  against  Elfrida. 

"  And  now  tell  me  all  about  my  sister,"  said 
Ethel ;  "  though  I've  never  seen  her  I'm  awfully  in- 
terested to  hear  about  her.  Is  she  anything  like 
me?  " 

And  then  Jack  told  Ethel  how  Elfrida  was  the 
most  beautiful  woman  in  the  world  bar  one,  though 
he  pointedly  omitted  to  mention  the  exception ;  and 
how  fashionable  she  was,  and  how  clever,  and  how 
cold.  All  of  which  Ethel  drank  in  with  absorbing  in- 
terest, and  kept  asking  for  more.  From  Elfrida  they 
drifted  to  other  topics ;  and  Ethel  soon  heard  a  great 
deal  about  Jack's  life  in  India,  and  learnt  how  lonely 
he  had  been  since  his  parents  died,  and  how  he 
wished  he  had  had  a  brother  or  a  sister.  In  fact, 
they  had  so  much  to  say  to  each  other  that  they 
were  quite  surprised  when  the  afternoon  came  to 
an  end.  And  there  really  was  no  occasion  for  sur- 
prise on  their  part,  as  afternoons  are  prone  to  come 
to  a  premature  end  within  a  month  from  the  short- 
est day. 

For  the  rest  of  Jack's  visit  to  Fairlawn  he  fre- 
quented Sunnydale  pool  from  frosty  morn  to  foggy 
eve ;  and,  with  a  consideration  which  Nature  does 
not  always  show  for  the  love  affairs  of  her  children, 
the  frost  continued  and  the  ice  held  out.  The  Wei- 
ford  family,  as  was  natural,  made  ill-bred  jokes  upon 
the  subject  of  his  obvious  admiration  for  the  organ- 
ist's granddaughter,  love  being  the  one  thing  which 
never  fails  to  tickle  the  bourgeois  sense  of  humour. 
But  by  that  time  Jack  was  so  much  in  love  that  he  did 


64  A  DOUBLE   THREAD. 

not  even  mind  being  laughed  at ;  and  that  means  he 
was  very  much  in  love  indeed. 

He  had  not  as  yet  said  anything  to  Ethel — that  is 
to  say,  he  thought  he  had  not — because  he  was  not 
in  a  position  to  marry  anybody,  least  of  all  a  girl 
without  a  penny  of  her  own ;  and  it  distressed  him 
a  great  deal  to  think  that  Ethel  would  go  back  to 
London  without  knowing  how  much  he  cared  for 
her.  Of  course  Ethel  knew  well  enough,  but  she 
pretended  that  she  didn't ;  and  she  pretended  so  well 
that  Jack  was  completely  taken  in,  and  thought  that 
she  looked  upon  him  only  in  the  light  of  a  friend. 
And  yet  Jack  Le  Mesurier  was  generally  sharp 
enough  where  women  were  concerned.  . 

"  I  say,  you'll  let  me  come  and  see  you  in  town, 
won't  you  ? "  he  besought  humbly,  one  day  when 
Ethel's  time  at  Sunnydale  was  nearly  at  an  end. 

Ethel  shook  her  head.  "  I  don't  think  you'd 
better." 

"Why  not?" 

"  I  think  it  would  be  wiser  if  you  didn't." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  the  people  you  are  living 
with  mightn't  like  it?  Because  if  they  are  going  to 
bully  you  like  that,  the  sooner  that  I  tell  them  what 
I  think  of  them  the  better." 

Still  Ethel  was  obstinate.  "  I'd  really  rather  you 
didn't." 

"  Of  course  I  wouldn't  for  worlds  do  anything 
you  didn't  like,  but  however  am  I  to  live  without 
seeing  you  ?  " 

"  I  can't  tell.  I'm  not  a  doctor.  Still,  lots  of 
people  do  live  without  seeing  me,  so  I  suppose  the 
deprivation  is  not  as  dangerous  as  one  would  im- 
.agine." 

Jack  laughed,  though  his  heart  was  heavy.     He 


JACK  LE   MESURIER.  65 

and  Ethel  made  a  point  of  always  laughing  at  each 
other's  jokes ;  that  was  one  reason  why  they  were 
so  fond  of  each  other. 

"  Well,  at  any  rate  I  can  write  to  you.  Where 
shall  you  be  ?  " 

"  I  really  don't  know ;  travelling  about,  I  expect. 
But  any  letters  sent  to  me  here  will  be  forwarded  all 
right." 

"  And  you'll  come  down  here  at  Easter  ?  " 

Ethel  nodded.  "  I  suppose  so ;  I  always  spend 
holiday  times  with  my  grandparents." 

For  a  few  minutes  they  skated  in  silence.  It 
was  glorious  flying  along  at  that  pace  over  the 
black  ice ;  and  the  fact  that  they  were  holding 
one  another's  hands  in  no  way  detracted  from  the 
glory. 

Then  Jack  said  in  a  very  low  voice :  "  May  I 
come  down  at  Easter,  too  ?  " 

"  Of  course  you  may  if  you  like ;  but  I  should 
think  you'd  find  it  rather  dull.  There'll  be  no  skat- 
ing at  Easter,  you  know." 

"  I  suppose  not." 

"  And  you  found  it  dreadfully  dull  here  till  you 
began  to  skate,"  persisted  Ethel ;  "  you  told  me  you 
did." 

"  That  also  is  true.  But  there  are  other  things 
in  life  besides  skating." 

"  As,  for  instance?  " 

"  Miss  Welford's  reading  societies ;  I  might  join 
them,  you  see."  And  they  both  laughed. 

After  another  delightful  silence  Jack  said  sud- 
denly :  "  Tell  me  one  thing :  are  the  people  you  live 
with  in  London  kind  to  you?  " 

Ethel's  eyes  grew  sad.  "  Kind  enough  in  their 
way ;  but  they  don't  really  care  for  me.  It  wouldn't 


66  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

matter  to  them  if  I  died  to-morrow.  My  place  would 
be  filled  up,  and  nobody  would  mind." 

"  Poor  child,  it  must  be  lonely  for  you ! " 

"  It  is ;  horribly  lonely,  cruelly  lonely !  And  the 
loneliness  hurts  me.  It  is  so  dreadful  to  feel  that  in 
the  whole  of  London  there  is  nobody  that  really 
cares.  You  can't  think  how  I  envy  girls  with  fathers 
and  mothers  and  people  of  their  own." 

"  I  understand."  And  Jack's  face  was  very 
tender. 

"  Yes ;  you  always  do.  I  knew  the  minute  I  saw 
you  that  you  were  an  understanding  person,  and  I 
am  never  wrong  in  my  first  impressions." 

"  People  who  do  understand  are  a  comfort,  aren't 
they  ?  "  remarked  Jack. 

"  Oh,  yes.  I  divide  humanity  into  the  people 
who  understand  and  the  people  who  don't;  that  is 
the  only  difference  that  matters." 

"  It  isn't  an  equal  division,  I  must  confess  ;•  for 
the  people  who  don't  understand  are  in  an  enormous 
majority." 

Ethel  nodded.  "  In  fact,  you  and  I  are  the  only 
ones  I  ever  met  on  the  other  side.  We  are  in  a  mi- 
nority of  two." 

"  But  it  is  enough,  don't  you  think  ?  " 

"  Plenty.  It  is  what  magistrates  call  a  quotient 
or  a  quorum  or  something." 

"  If  it  is  enough,  it  ought  to  content  us,"  re- 
marked Jack ;  "  people  can  but  get  what  they 
want." 

"  But  it  must  be  difficult  always  to  know  if  the 
thing  you've  got  is  the  thing  you  want,"  suggested 
Ethel,  who  was  prone  to  analyse  her  feelings  too 
much. 

But  Jack's  common  sense  pulled  her  round  again. 


JACK  LE   MESURIER.  67 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  When  you've  got  what  you  want, 
you  know  fast  enough." 

"  But  how  do  you  know  that  afterwards  you  won't 
want  something  else  more?  " 

"  Because  you  do :  that's  all  I  can  tell  you.  Did 
you  never  hear  the  Indian  story  of  the  end  room  ?  " 

"  No :  tell  it  to  me." 

"  Once  upon  a  time,"  began  Jack,  "  there  was  a 
man  who  had  saved  the  life  of  a  king ;  and  the  king 
said  he  would  give  him  whatever  he  asked  for.  And 
as  the  man  was  going  into  the  palace  to  make  his 
choice,  the  princess  met  him,  and  whispered  in  pass- 
ing, '  Be  satisfied  with  nothing  short  of  the  end 
room.'  So  the  man  decided  to  take  the  hint." 

"  He  was  a  wise  man,"  remarked  Ethel,  "  to 
know  at  once  that  a  woman  knew  better  than  he 
did." 

"  He  didn't  know  at  once :  he  was  thirty  years 
old,  and  till  he  was  twenty-nine  he  had  thought  he 
knew  better  than  any  woman  did.  That  was  why  he 
was  a  bachelor,  and.  had  time  to  save  the  lives  of 
kings  instead  of  getting  his  own  living." 

"  I  see ;  go  on." 

"  Where  was  I  ?  Oh  !  I  know.  Well,  being  over 
thirty,  he  had  seen  enough  of  life  to  know  that  it  is 
always  wise  to  take  the  hints  of  people  who  have 
been  behind  the  scenes.  So  when  the  king  showed 
him  a  room  filled  with  copper,  he  said,  '  This  won't 
do ;  I  must  go  on  to  the  next  room.'  " 

"  I  suppose  rooms  in  palaces  always  open  out  of 
each  other  as  they  do  in  Grand  Hotels,"  interpolated 
Ethel. 

"  Of  course  they  do — it  is  inconvenient  and  pala- 
tial ;  but  you  mustn't  interrupt.  You  break  the 
thread  of  my  story." 


68  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  Well,  go  on ;  you'd  got  to  the  copper  room." 

"  Then  the  king  showed  him  the  next  room, 
which  was  full  of  silver ;  but  still  he  said  he  must  go 
one  better.  The  king  threw  open  the  door  of  the 
silver  room  and  showed  that  it  led  to  a  room  full 
of  gold ;  and  still  the  man  said  it  wasn't  good 
enough.  And  he  went  on  from  one  room  to  another 
— from  gold  to  rubies,  and  from  rubies  to  emeralds, 
and  from  emeralds  to  diamonds — till  he  came  to  a 
room  where  there  was  nothing  but  the  princess  her- 
self. And  then  he  pulled  up  and  said,  Thank  you, 
he  would  trouble  the  king  no  further." 

"  How  did  he  know  he  had  got  to  the  end  room?  " 
inquired  Ethel. 

"  That  was  just  what  the  king  asked  him.  '  How 
did  you  know  that  there  was  not  another  room  with 
something  still  better?'  '  Because  there  is  nothing 
better,'  answered  the  man.  So  he  married  the  prin- 
cess." 

"  Then  do  you  think  we  all  know  when  we  get 
to  the  end  room  ?  "  inquired  Ethel,  after  a  moment's 
silence. 

"  Perfectly ;  and  most  of  us  get  there  some  time 
or  another.  But  whether  we  can  afford  to  marry 
the  princess  when  we  have  got  there,  is  another  and 
a  less  agreeable  side  of  the  question." 


CHAPTER  V. 

BEFORE    EASTER. 

"  If  I  were  you,  my  heart  would  be 

Itself  its  kingdom  ever  new; 

But  I'd  make  room  in  it  for  me, 

If  I  were  you." 

THE  pleasantest  part  of  the  London  season  is  the 
part  which  comes  before  Easter. 

In  the  first  place  the  weather  is  not  sufficiently 
inviting  to  make  people  homesick  for  the  country. 
And  in  the  second,  there  are  as  yet  so  few  social  en- 
gagements that  thanks  are  still  due  from  the  enter- 
tained to  the  entertainers,  instead  of  vice  versa. 

It  was  a  very  wet  spring,  that  first  spring  of  Jack 
Le  Mesurier's  life  in  England.  The  streets  were 
greasy  with  black  mud,  and  the  parks  were  dotted 
over  with  little  brown  pools,  which,  owing  to  the 
blades  of  grass  showing  above  the  face  of  the  waters, 
presented  the  appearance  of  mint  sauce.  Conse- 
quently it  was  nicer  indoors  than  out ;  and  it  was  spe- 
cially nice  inside  the  late  Lord  Harland's  town  resi- 
dence. 

Jack  did  not  see  Elfrida  very  often  ;  but  he  talked 
to  her  whenever  he  met  her  in  society,  and  he  met 
her  whenever  he  had  the  chance ;  also,  he  called  now 
and  then  at  the  house  in  Mayfair.  All  this  he  did, 

69 


70  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

not  for  his  own  gratification,  but  for  Ethel's  sake, 
because  he  thought  it  might  help  towards  bringing 
her  and  Elfrida  together ;  at  least,  so  he  said  to  him- 
self, and  he  was  of  course  the  most  reliable  authority 
on  the  subject. 

One  rainy  afternoon  he  found  Elfrida  and  Mrs. 
Seeley  sitting  indoors,  when  he  called  upon  them 
about  five  o'clock.  Jack  felt  that  it  was  time  for  him 
to  begin  to  plead  Ethel's  cause,  if  he  ever  meant  to 
plead  it ;  and  with  him  to  mean  anything  was  to  do 
it.  The  thing  that  he  intended  was  the  thing 
that  he  did — and  he  generally  did  it  well  into  the  bar- 
gain. So  he  accordingly  began,  after  his  hostess 
had  provided  him  with  a  cup  of  tea : 

"  Do  you  know,  I  am  thinking  of  adopting  the 
role  of  a  peacemaker,  Miss  Harland  ?  " 

Elfrida  smiled  lazily.  "  I  would  dissuade  you 
from  undertaking  the  part." 

"Why?" 

"  Because  experience  has  taught  me  that  peace- 
making is  a  most  dangerous  pastime.  Nearly  all  the 
mischief  that  I  have  ever  come  across  has  been 
wrought  by  peacemakers.  It  is  wonderful  how  much 
harm  they  can  do  in  a  comparatively  short  time !  " 

"  Oh !  you  naughty,  naughty  girl,"  interpolated 
Arabella ;  "  how  can  you  say  such  things  ?  " 

"  Because  I  think  them.  Nine  times  out  of  ten, 
peacemaking  is  a  euphemism  for  interference ;  and 
interference  is  invariably  a  synonym  for  imperti- 
nence." 

"  Nevertheless,  don't  you  think  that  sometimes  a 
third  person  can  bring  two  quarrelsome  people  to- 
gether again  ?  "  persisted  Jack.  ' 

"  I  never  met  with  a  case.  The  usual  result  of 
such  a  course  is  that  the  two  original  quarrellers  hate 


BEFORE   EASTER.  jl 

each  other  twice  as  much  as  they  did  before,  and  the 
peacemaker  twice  as  much  as  they  hate  each  other. 
No,  Captain  Le  Mesurier,  I  think  that  peacemaking 
— like  matrimony — is  an  exercise  which  should  not 
be  unadvisedly  taken  in  hand." 

Jack  laughed ;  but  he  could  not  help  wishing  that 
Elfrida  would  not  look  so  much  like  Ethel.  She 
was  so  exactly  like  Ethel — and  yet  so  utterly  differ- 
ent— that  she  tantalized  him.  It  is  always  irritating 
when  strangers  take  the  liberty  of  masquerading  in 
the  bodily  forms  of  our  best-beloved ;  it  is  an  in- 
fringement of  the  laws  of  patent  and  copyright ;  and 
Jack  was  not  the  first  man  who  has  felt  annoyed 
when  the  sister  that  he  did  not  care  for,  looked  at 
him  with  the  eyes  and  talked  to  him  with  the  voice 
of  the  sister  that  he  did. 

"  Moreover,"  continued  Elfrida,  in  her  indifferent 
manner,  "  quarrelling  is  an  abstruse  science ;  and 
spoiling  a  pretty  quarrel  is  on  a  par,  to  my  mind,  with 
shooting  a  fox." 

"  Ah !  Elfrida,"  sighed  Mrs.  Seeley,  "  you  don't 
know  what  you  are  talking  about.  Quarrels  are  sad, 
sad  things,  which  disturb  one's  rest  and  destroy  one's 
appetite." 

"  Not  if  they  are  properly  carried  on,"  replied 
Miss  Harland. 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you  there,"  cried  Jack ;  "  I 
am  an  accomplished  quarreller;  and  I  flatter  myself 
that  every  woman  who  has  had  the  pleasure  of  quar- 
relling with  me  will  confess  that  I  have  conducted  the 
case  with  the  utmost  ability." 

"  I  can  quite  believe  it,"  said  Elfrida ;  "  what  is 
your  plan  of  campaign,  may  I  ask?" 

"  Oh !  it  is  simple  enough.  When  I  am  in  the 
wrong,  I  say  that  I  am  in  the  wrong ;  and  when  she 


72  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

is  in  the  wrong  I  still  say  that  I  am  in  the  wrong. 
She  forgives  me  in  either  case,  I  find,  though  less 
readily  in  the  latter  than  in  the  former." 

Elfrida  nodded  approval.  "  I  see ;  it  is  a  method 
such  as  this  which  renders  penitence  a  fine  art,  and 
pardon  a  foregone  conclusion." 

"  Just  so,"  said  Jack. 

"  You  young  people  do  not  know  what  you  are 
talking  about,"  sighed  Mrs.  Seeley ;  "  lovers'  quar- 
rels are  dangerous  things." 

"  So  are  oysters,"  agreed  Captain  Le  Mesurier ; 
"  but  that  doesn't  make  them  any  the  less  nice." 

"  I  once  had  a  terrible  one  with  Willy  Chase, 
years  and  ye.ars  ago — a  quarrel  I  mean,  not  an  oys- 
ter," continued  the  widow  pensively. 

"  Tell  us  about  it,"  entreated  Elfrida,  who  always 
enjoyed  Arabella's  sentimental  reminiscences.  Jack 
also  was  by  now  accustomed  to  them,  and  appreciated 
them  warmly ;  in  fact  his  enjoyment  was  only  second 
to  that  of  the  reciter  herself. 

"  It  was  over  an  '  intermediate/  I  remember,  and 
Willy  meant  us  to  go  up  to  supper  together  instead 
of  dancing  it;  but  I'd  been  up  to  supper  with  some- 
body else — I  think  it  was  Teddy  Simpson — and  came 
back  when  the  dance  was  half  over.  Willy  was  very 
rude  and  cross,  and  said  that  I  was  utterly  heartless, 
and  then  sulked  openly  for  the  rest  of  the  evening." 

"  If  you  will  pardon  me  for  saying  it,  that  was 
distinctly  inartistic  of  Mr.  Chase,"  remarked  Elfrida. 

Arabella  sighed.     "  He  was  very  young." 

"  Ah !  that  comes  to  the  same  thing." 

"  He  went  up  to  supper  afterwards  with  another 
girl ;  I  know  that  he  didn't  enjoy  it,  but  he  said  that 
he  did." 

Captain  Le  Mesurier  shook  his  head  sorrowfully. 


BEFORE   EASTER. 


73 


"  That  was  indeed  crude.  An  older  man  would  have 
enjoyed  his  supper,  and  have  said  that  he  hadn't." 

"  He  seemed  to  think  that  I  had  done  it  on  pur- 
pose." 

"  Well,  hadn't  you  ?  "  asked  Jack  ;  "  it  seems 
funny  to  go  up  to  supper  unconsciously,  or  even  in- 
advertently." 

"  Oh !  I  mean  he  thought  that  I  had  treated  him 
badly  on  purpose :  and  I  really  hadn't.  But  he  was 
positively  rude  to  me  for  weeks  afterwards." 

"  I  can  quite  believe  that,"  remarked  Elfrida ; 
"  there  is  never  anybody  so  rude  to  a  woman  as  the 
men  who  happen  to  be  in  love,  and  out  of  temper, 
with  her." 

"  Oh,  Love,  Love,  what  blunders  are  committed 
in  thy  name !  "  paraphrased  Jack. 

"  And  I  don't  see  that  loving  a  woman  gives  a 
man  the  right  to  say  nasty  things  to  her ;  do  you  ?  " 
said  Elfrida.  "  It  is  only  marrying  her  that  does 
that,  I  believe." 

"  You  don't  mean  what  you  say,"  replied  Jack 
rather  sharply. 

"  Of  course  not ;  if  I  did,  I  shouldn't  say  it.  A 
woman  is  known,  not  by  what  she  says,  but  by  what 
she  doesn't  say.  Have  you  yet  to  learn  that,  my 
dear  sir?  " 

"  No ;  I  already  have  an  inkling  of  it.  Neverthe- 
less I  am  still  prone  to  believe  that  people  think  what 
they  say  and  say  what  they  think." 

Miss  Harland  shook  her  head.  "  I  cannot  com- 
mend such  extremely  simple  ideas.  Willy  Chase 
himself  could  hardly  have  been  more  elementary." 

Jack  laughed. 

"  If  you  don't  take  care,"  continued  Elfrida, 
"  you  will  end  by  believing  that  women  dislike  the 
6 


74  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

men  whom  they  abuse,  and  are  in  love  with  those 
whom  they  openly  praise.  You  have  no  idea  how 
these  childish  faiths  grow  upon  one !  " 

"  Well,  if  I  heard  that  a  girl  had  abused  me,  I 
should  conclude  that  she  did  not  like  me  much,"  said 
Jack  simply. 

"  Again  I  am  reminded  of  Willy  Chase.  Now  I 
have  learnt  that  if  a  woman  appears  to  hate  a  man, 
she  really  has  begun  to  care  for  him  and  is  not  yet 
sure  whether  he  cares  for  her;  it  is  a  form  of  hedg- 
ing. But  if  she  appears  utterly  indifferent  to  him, 
they  both  care,  and  have  told  each  other  so." 

"  Then  what  does  she  do  when  she  really  is  in- 
different ?  " 

"  She  says  he  is  a  delightful  creature  and  dances 
divinely,  and  she  wishes  he  would  take  her  in  to 
supper." 

"  And  what  when  she  really  hates  him  ?  "  persisted 
Jack. 

"  That  he  is  a  most  excellent  person,  and  she  has 
the  greatest  respect  for  him,  but  it  is  a  pity  that  he 
is  so  dreadfully  middle-class." 

Jack  smiled.     "  You  are  very  clever." 

"  I  suppose  so  ;  but  you  don't  approve  of  my  clev- 
erness all  the  same." 

"  Don't  I  ?  " 

"  No ;  you  think  I  am  far  too  bitter  and  cynical 
for  a  woman." 

"  Perhaps  so ;  but  bitterness  and  cleverness  have 
nothing  to  do  with  each  other,  as  far  as  I  can  see. 
As  a  matter  of  fact  I  so  much  approve  of  your  clev- 
erness that  it  riles  me  to  see  you  letting  it  turn 
sour." 

"  Ah !  Captain  Le  Mesurier,  how  sensible  you 
are,"  cried  Mrs.  Seeley.  "  I  am  always  telling  our 


BEFORE    EASTER. 


75 


dear  Elfrida  that  she  does  herself  an  injustice  when 
she  says  such  naughty,  sarcastic  things."  • 

Elfrida  yawned.  "  You  are  both  horribly  im- 
proving this  afternoon !  But  I  thought  all  men  hated 
cleverness." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  replied  Jack ;  "  but  I'll  tell  you 
what  we  do  hate,  and  that  is  '  intelligence.'  The  sort 
of  woman  that  people  call  '  intelligent '  is  the  most 
awful  nuisance  in  the  world.  She  asks  you  what  you 
have  been  reading  lately,  and  what  you  think  of  the 
political  situation,  and  whether  you  have  studied  the 
reports  of  the  British  Association." 

"  I  know  her,"  said  Elfrida ;  "  she  combines  the 
respectable  dulness  of  a  Church  Congress  with  the 
mental  fatigue  of  a  mathematical  tripos,  and  yet  never 
loses  the  lynx-eyed  exactingness  of  the  unattractive 
woman." 

"  But  all  women  cannot  be  attractive,  darling  El- 
frida," remonstrated  Arabella,  with  the  self-conscious 
simper  of  one  who  could. 

"Why  not?" 

"  Oh !  because  they  can't  be — because  they  aren't 
made  so.  We,  who  are  more  fortunate,  ought  to  be 
very  thankful ;  but  we  should  not  deal  hardly  with 
our  less  happy  sisters,"  replied  Mrs.  Seeley. 

"  I  don't  see  it,  Arabella.  Any  woman  can  be 
attractive,  if  she  takes  the  trouble.  But  so  rrjany 
women  never  do." 

"  Do  men  ?  "  asked  Jack. 

"  Oh  yes ;  a  man  always  takes  the  trouble  to 
make  himself  attractive  at  least  once  in  his  life,  and 
he  nearly  always  succeeds  if  he  goes  on  long  enough. 
But  some  women  seem  to  think  that  it  is  a  man's 
duty  to  be  fond  of  them ;  and  so  they  make  it,  as  is 
the  custom  in  dealing  with  duty,  as  difficult  and  dis- 


76  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

agreeable  as  possible.  Then,  when  men  do  not  care 
for  them,  they  blame  the  former  and  never  them- 
selves." 

"  Men  always  like  to  be  amused  and  never  to  be 
instructed,"  remarked  Jack ;  "  if  only  women  would 
remember  this,  all  would  yet  be  well." 

"  Ah,  Captain,  how  wise  you  are !  "  exclaimed 
Arabella,  rising  from  her  seat  and  leaving  the  room. 

Though  a  foolish  woman,  Mrs.  Seeley  was  not 
without  a  certain  amount  of  tact.  Hence  she  was 
not  altogether  unpopular.  There  is  always  a  niche 
in  this  world  for  a  woman  of  tact — which  is  merely 
another  name  for  observation  and  unselfishness. 

When  Jack  found  himself  alone  with  Elfrida,  he 
got  up  and  began  to  play  with  the  ornaments  upon 
the  chimney-piece.  Although  a  brave  man  and  a 
first-class  soldier,  he  was  afraid  of  Elfrida  Harland. 
Nevertheless  he  did  the  very  thing  which  frightened 
him ;  it  was  here  that  his  pluck  showed  itself. 

"  Miss  Harland,  I  have  not  yet  fulfilled  the  peace- 
making intention  with  which  I  came  here,"  he  began. 

"  Good  intentions  make  an  admirable  pavement, 
but  an  uninteresting  programme,"  Elfrida  replied. 

"  Still  I  am  going  to  use  mine  as  a  programme, 
and  also  to  carry  it  out.  I  want  you  to  make  friends 
with  your  sister." 

"  Ah !  "  Elfrida  only  answered  by  a  monosyllable, 
and  her  face  did  not  betray  the  slightest  interest.  It 
was  a  little  difficult  to  continue  in  spite  of  such  dis- 
couragement, but  Jack  went  boldly  on. 

"  She  is  so  poor  and  so  desolate,  and  so  sadly  in 
need  of  some  one  to  look  after  her  and  take  care  of 
her.  She  seems  such  a  young  thing  to  have  to  fight 
her  own  way  through  the  world." 

"  I  see ;  and  you  think  that  I  am  old  enough  to 


BEFORE   EASTER. 


77 


take  charge  of  her  inexperienced  youth.  Did  you 
never  hear  that  twin  sisters  are  generally  pretty  much 
of  an  age?" 

"  Not  if  they  have  had  such  different  experiences 
as  you  two  have  had.  Why,  you  are  an  accomplished 
woman  of  the  world,  while  she  is  but  a  desolate  child 
who  has  hitherto  been  cheated  out  of  all  life's  pleas- 
ures." 

Miss  Harland  smiled  a  cold,  inscrutable  smile. 
"  My  sister  ought  to  be  proud  of  such  a  loyal  cham- 
pion." 

But  Jack  was  now  too  full  of  Ethel's  wrongs  to 
be  abashed  by  Elfrida's  coldness. 

"  Oh !  won't  you  go  to  her,"  he  cried,  "  and  be 
kind  to  her  and  help  her?  She  has  to  work  so  hard 
for  her  living,  poor  little  girl !  And  I  am  sure  that 
her  employers  are  not  kind  to  her.  She  is  so  plucky 
and  simple,  and  so  good  to  her  old  grandparents, 
that  you  could  not  help  loving  her  if  you  knew  her !  " 

"  Couldn't  I  ?     I  am  not  so  sure  of  that." 

"  Please  don't  be  hard  and  cruel !  As  Mrs.  See- 
ley  says,  you  do  yourself  an  injustice  when  you  pre- 
tend to  be  as  unfeeling  as  this.  You  must  have  a 
heart  somewhere ;  and  I'm  sure  that  that  heart  would 
break  if  you  realized — too  late — that  you  had  spoilt 
the  life  of  your  twin  sister." 

"  You  flatter  me.  I  am  not  sure  that  I  have  a 
heart  at  all ;  and  if  I  have,  it  is  of  the  unbreakable 
sort.  Something  like  the  unbreakable  glass  that  you 
can  throw  about  without  hurting  it." 

"  Still,  connoisseurs  prefer  to  drink  out  of  the 
delicate  sort  that  will  break  if  roughly  handled.  But 
I  believe  that  the  kind  you  mention  is  most  popular 
and  economical  on  the  tables  of  commercial  inns  and 
second-class  boarding-houses,"  replied  Jack  grimly. 


78  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

Elfrida's  face  flushed.     "  You  are  very  rude !  " 

"  I  am  very  angry  !  " 

Elfrida's  heart  began  to  beat  quickly.  A  woman 
always  admires  a  man  when  he  is  angry  with  her, 
provided  that  she  knows  he  is  in  the  right,  and  that 
he  is  not  a  relation. 

There  is  something  thrilling  in  a  storm  between 
two  combatants  of  different  sexes  and  different  fami- 
lies ;  but  when  the  clashing  thunder-clouds  are  mem- 
bers of  the  same  household,  the  storm  partakes  of  the 
nature  of  the  teacup  variety,  and  becomes  a  depress- 
ing comedy  instead  of  a  tragedy  of  delights. 

"  Captain  Le  Mesurier,"  said  Elfrida,  putting  off 
for  the  moment  her  indifferent  manner,  "  do  not 
think  more  hardly  of  me  than  I  deserve.  There  is 
a  reason  why  I  cannot  go  to  my  sister  even  if  I  would. 
Some  day  you  may  learn  that  reason,  but  not 
now." 

Jack  tugged  at  his  moustache,  as  he  always  did 
when  vexed.  "  I  cannot  imagine  any  reason  that 
would  be  sufficiently  powerful  to  come  between 
two  sisters,  especially  when  the  one  was  poor  and 
in  need,  and  the  other  had  enough  and  to  spare. 
Can't  you  see  how  hard  it  is  for  a  young  and  beauti- 
ful girl  to  have  to  work  for  her  living  among 
people  who  are  unkind  to  her,  when  her  own  sister 
is  one  of  the  greatest  heiresses  in  London  ?  " 

"  I  see  all  that,  and  I  would  help  my  sister  if  I 
could ;  but,  believe  me,  it  is  impossible." 

"  Impossible  for  you  to  go  to  your  sister  and  tell 
her  that  she  will  always  find  a  friend  in  you?  Im- 
possible for  you  to  write  to  her  even  ?  " 

"  Under  the  circumstances,  utterly  impossible." 

"  I  cannot  believe  it." 

Elfrida  shook  her  head.     "  You  do  not  know  all. 


BEFORE   EASTER. 


79 


If  you  did,  you  would  see  that  Ethel  and  I  are  bound 
to  remain  apart." 

"  It  is  very  hard  on  her!  " 

Elfrida  smiled  sadly.  "  Perhaps  it  is  also  a  little 
hard  on  me,  but  what  must  be  must  be." 

Jack  had  been  walking  about  the  room  in  his  ex- 
citement, but  now  he  stood  still,  and  began  playing 
again  with  the  ornaments  on  the  chimney-piece ;  and 
he  played  so  hard  with  a  little  china  dog,  that  one  of 
its  legs  came  off  in  his  impatient  fingers. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  have  been  guilty  of  impertinence 
in  addressing  you  on  this  matter,  and  owe  you  an 
apology,"  he  said  stiffly. 

But  Elfrida  rose  and  stood  "beside  him,  and  put 
her  hand  on  his  arm.  "  Please  don't  be  angry  with 
me.  If  you  knew  the  whole  story,  you  would  know 
it  is  not  my  fault  that  Ethel  and  I  are  so  far  apart. 
Perhaps  you  will  know  it  some  day,  and  then  you  will 
understand  that  I  was  powerless  to  bridge  over  the 
gulf  between  us.  But  in  the  meantime  I  ask  you  to 
take  my  word  for  what  I  have  just  told  you,  and  to 
be  friends  with  me.  It  may  be  that  I  need  your 
friendship  even  more  than  Ethel  does."  And  the 
sweet  voice  shook. 

Jack  Le  Mesurier  was  not  the  man  to  refuse  for- 
giveness to  a  pretty  woman,  whatever  she  might  have 
done ;  so  he  took  Miss  Harland's  hand,  and  shook  it 
warmly. 

"  Of  course  I  will  be  friends  with  you,"  he  said, 
"  and  of  course  I  am  bound  to  believe  a  lady's  word. 
There  is  no  other  course  open  to  me." 

"  And  you  will  forgive  me  for  not  acceding  to 
your  request?  " 

"  Yes,  but  that  doesn't  mean  that  I  shall  never 
proffer  it  again.  Good-bye." 


go  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  Good-bye ;  I  am  glad  that  you  have  forgiven 
me." 

And  Jack  forgave  her  thus  easily  because  she  had 
looked  at  him  with  Ethel's  eyes  and  spoken  to  him 
in  Ethel's  voice. 

After  he  had  gone,  Elfrida  picked  up  the  china 
ornament  that  he  had  broken  in  the  heat  of  his  argu- 
ment. 

"  Poor  little  dog,"  she  said,  fitting  the  broken 
limb  into  its  place ;  then  she  smiled.  "  No,  not  poor 
little  dog,  but  happy  little  dog !  for  it  is  better  to  be 
crushed  to  pieces  by  a  strong  man  than  to  spend 
one's  life  as  a  drawing-room  ornament.  I  believe 
that  I  envy  you,  little  china  dog,  and  that  you  are 
better  off  than  I  am  after  all." 

Then  she  sat  down  and  gazed  into  the  fire  and 
thought  about  Jack  Le  Mesurier. 

"  He  is  a  real  man,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  but  all 
the  rest  are  puppets." 

And  she  went  on  thinking  about  him  until  it  was 
time  to  be  dressed  for  dinner. 

Elfrida  did  not  attempt  to  disguise  from  herself 
that  Jack  was  speedily  becoming  the  centre  of  the 
universe  to  her ;  neither  was  she  shy — as  a  more  im- 
pulsive woman  would  have  been — of  the  strength  of 
her  own  feelings.  For  years  she  had  wanted  to  fall 
in  love,  and  had  failed ;  now  at  last  she  had  suc- 
ceeded, and  she  was  glad  that  she  had  done  so,  what- 
ever the  results  might  be. 

Elfrida  Harland  had  many  theories  of  life,  and 
one  of  them  was  that  it  is  advisable,  if  difficult,  for 
every  woman  to  marry ;  but  that  it  is  absolutely 
necessary,  and  quite  feasible,  for  every  woman  to  fall 
in  love.  The  most  sympathetic  woman  in  the  world 
is  the  old  maid  who  has  been  in  love;  the  least,  the 


BEFORE    EASTER.  8l 

old  maid  who  has  not.  The  former  reminds  one  of 
dried  rose-leaves  and  lavender ;  and  the  latter,  of 
bread-and-butter  which  has  been  cut  too  long. 

Knowing  this,  Elfrida  was  naturally  anxious  not 
to  miss  so  important  a  branch  of  her  education,  and 
for  some  time  past  she  had  been  afraid  that  she  was 
fated  to  miss  it,  in  spite  of  all  her  intentions  to  the 
contrary.  But  now  that  Jack  had  appeared  upon  the 
scene,  she  saw  a  new  world  opening  out  before  her, 
and  she  began  to  understand  how  wise  it  is  to  be  fool- 
ish, and  how  foolish  it  is  to  be  wise. 

To  her  sister,  as  a  possible  rival,  she  never  gave 
a  serious  thought.  She  had  reigned  so  supremely 
and  so  easily  in  her  own  world,  that  she  was  not  on 
the  look-out  for  Opposing  sovereigns;  and  it  had 
never  yet  occurred  to  her  to  be  jealous  of  anybody. 
It  is  only  when  we  find  other  people  attractive — or 
ourselves  not  so — that  we  learn  what  jealousy  means, 
and  Elfrida  had  come  upon  neither  of  these  causes 
till  she  met  Jack  Le  Mesurier. 

When  it  was  time  to  dress,  she  got  up  and  looked 
at  herself  in  the  glass. 

"  I  believe  he  is  really  beginning  to  care,"  she 
mused.  "  If  he  were  not,  he  wouldn't  have  been  so 
fearfully  angry.  Men  are  never  angry  unless  they 
care ;  they  are  only  cross  and  tiresome  and  disagree- 
able. Oh  dear  me !  The  summer  is  coming,  and 
the  world  is  not  such  a  very  dull  place  after  all." 

Then  her  face  grew  grave  as  she  added :  "  I  won- 
der how  long  it  will  be  before  he  finds  out  about 
poor  Ethel." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

GREYSTONE. 

"Your  wisdom  made  me  worn  and  old 

And  sick  of  life  beneath  the  sun  ; 
But  you  passed  onward,  calm  and  cold, 
Unconscious  of  the  harm  you'd  done 
By  your  crusade  so  strictly  truthful 
Against  enthusiasms  youthful." 

NOT  long  after  this  Jack  received  a  letter  which 
surprised  him  a  good  deal.  It  was  from  his  uncle, 
Sir  Roger,  and  ran  as  follows : 

"  DEAR  JACK  :  I  hear  that  you  have  come  back 
home  for  a  time.  As  you  have  crossed  the  sea  be- 
tween England  and  India,  you  may  be  able  to  bridge 
over  the  family  feud  as  well ;  though  this  will  natu- 
rally prove  a  more  difficult  undertaking,  blood  being 
thicker  than  water,  as  they  say.  Nevertheless,  come 
down  to  Greystone,  and  let  us  see  if  we  hate  each 
other  as  much  as  we  ought  to  do. 
"  Yours  truly, 

"  ROGER  LE  MESURIER." 

Of  course  Jack  decided  at  once  to  accept  his 
uncle's  invitation.     The  old  quarrel  was  so  very  old 
now  that  there  was  no  life  left  in  it,  and  the  young 
82 


GREYSTONE.  83 

man  naturally  longed  to  see  the  house  which  had 
been  the  home  of  his  family  for  so  many  generations. 
Therefore  he  ran  down  to  Greystone  for  what  some 
people  call  "  a  week-end  " — by  which  they  mean  a 
week's  beginning. 

The  journey  was  not  a  long  one,  and  Jack  found 
it  very  pleasant,  it  was  so  delightful  to  him  to  see 
the  old,  neat,  English  scenery  once  more.  Com- 
pared with  England,  all  other  countries  are  more  or 
less  untidy ;  for,  in  her  most  unguarded  moments, 
she  never  has  a  hair  out  of  place.  Just  now  the  coun- 
try was  looking  specially  inviting,  as  that  soft,  pink 
flush,  which  heralds  the  dawn  of  spring,  was  gradu- 
ally stealing  over  the  bare,  brown  woods ;  the  fields 
were  beginning  to  put  on  their  new  green  dresses, 
and  the  birds  were  tuning-up  for  their  coming  con- 
cert. 

As  for  the  rooks,  they  were  very  busy  with  their 
building  arrangements  in  the  elm  trees ;  and  they 
kept  hopping  across  the  ground  towards  broken 
twigs,  in  that  silly,  coy  way  of  theirs,  as  if  they  were 
dancing  "  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  "  instead  of  erect- 
ing homesteads  for  their  wives  and  families.  And 
everywhere  there  was  that  sense  of  promise  in  the  air, 
which  we  always  feel  when  spring  is  at  the  door,  and 
which  makes  us  believe  that  the  summer  which  is 
coming  will  be  a  happier  time  than  all  the  summers 
which  have  gone  before. 

Jack  did  not  attempt  to  read  during  his  journey ; 
he  merely  looked  out  of  the  window  and  thought 
what  a  glorious  thing  spring  was,  and  that  there 
had  never  been  such  a  spring  as  this  one.  And 
that  was  true,  as  far  as  he  was  concerned,  for  this 
was  the  first  spring  after  he  had  met  Ethel. 

Once  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  hunt  in  full  cry 


84  A   DOUBLE    THREAD. 

across  a  breezy  common ;  and  the  sight  of  the  pink 
coats  sent  a  thrill  all  through  him.  There  is  some- 
thing very  exhilarating  to  English  people  in  a  hunt- 
ing-scene ;  it  arouses  the  same  sort  of  patriotic  frenzy 
as  is  aroused  by  a  royal  procession,  or  a  military 
band,  or  a  fire-engine ;  and  it  is  the  sort  of  thrill  that 
every  man  and  woman  is  the  better  for  feeling. 

Jack  got  out  at  a  little  roadside  station  about  three 
miles  from  Greystone,  and  was  met  by  a  very  smart 
mail-phaeton,  and  a  pair  of  most  unmanageable 
horses.  The  driving  of  this  neat  turn-out  gave  him 
distinct  pleasure;  as  the  successful  management  of 
the  unmanageable  is  a  pastime  which  never  fails  to 
bring  joy  to  the  masculine  heart. 

His  way  lay  along  a  charming  old  coach  road, 
with  broad  grassy  margins  on  either  side — a  road 
which  had  been  made  in  the  days  of  the  Romans, 
when  land  was  not  yet  sold  at  so  much  a  yard,  like 
ribbon  or  tape ;  and  Jack  drove  along  the  straight 
white  road  at  a  tremendous  rate,  and  felt  that  the 
world  was  very  good. 

Following  the  instructions  of  the  groom,  he  went 
straight  on  for  nearly  three  miles,  and  then  turned — 
through  a  massive  stone  gateway  surmounted  with 
the  arms  of  the  Le  Mesuriers — into  a  fine  park,  sur- 
rounded by  a  broad  belt  of  woods,  and  skirted  on  one 
side  by  a  wide  river.  The  drive  through  the  park 
was  fully  a  mile  long,  and  then  they  turned  a  sharp 
corner  and  came  suddenly  upon  the  house — as  fine 
a  specimen  of  a  Tudor  mansion  as  could  be  found  in 
that  part  of  the  country. 

Sir  Roger  Le  Mesurier  was  a  bachelor,  and  lived 
alone ;  but  he  never  abated  a  jot  or  a  tittle  of  the 
state  which  he  thought  incumbent  upon  the  master 
of  Greystone.  The  establishment  and  the  gardens 


GREYSTONE.  85 

were  as  well  kept  up  as  if  a  large  and  hospitable  fam- 
ily, instead  of  a  lonely  old  man,  were  living  at  the 
hall.  The  state  drawing-rooms  were  lighted  up  with 
countless  wax  candles  every  night.  A  new  butler 
once,  on  being  told  to  light  up  as  usual,  inquired  what 
company  was  coming.  "  /  am  coming,"  replied  his 
master.  For  the  future  the  butler  decided  to  do  as 
he  was  bid,  and  ask  no  questions — a  not  unwise  pro- 
gramme for  others  than  butlers. 

Jack  was  ushered  with  due  formality  into  his 
uncle's  presence,  and  found  that  uncle  the  very  oppo- 
site to  everything  that  he  had  expected. 

Sir  Roger  was  a  very  small  man  with  the  face  of 
a  cherub,  but  of  a  cherub  who,  instead  of  docilely 
keeping  within  bounds,  has  strayed  into  uncherubic 
regions.  His  tongue  was  as  bitter  as  his  smile  was 
bland ;  and  while  he  enjoyed  nothing  so  much  as  the 
saying  of  cruel  things,  he  said  them  in  a  little  pip- 
ing voice  which  would  have  done  credit  to  a  white- 
robed  choir-boy.  He  had  read  much,  and  seen  still 
more ;  and  he  believed  in  nothing,  not  even  in  him- 
self. 

"  How  do  you  do,  my  dear  boy  ?  "  he  began  in 
his  shrill  treble.  "  Welcome  to  Greystone." 

Jack  shook  hands  with  him  heartily,  and  said 
how  pleased  he  was  to  see,  for  the  first  time  in  his 
life,  the  home  of  his  people. 

"  You  would  have  seen  it  long  ago,  if  your  dear 
father  had  not  been  so  unconscionably  conscientious. 
But  he  had  scruples  about  something  or  other — I 
forget  what ;  either  he  would  not  eat  rice  pudding  on 
a  Friday,  or  else  he  refused  to  marry  without  love — 
I  am  sure  I  forget  which ;  and  so  your  respected 
grandfather  never  forgave  him,  and  cut  him  off  with 
a  shilling.  Younger  sons  cannot  afford  to  keep  con- 


86  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

sciences,  my  good  Jack.  Believe  me,  in  the  long 
run  it  costs  more  to  keep  a  conscience  than  to  keep 
a  pack  of  hounds,  and  doesn't  give  a  fiftieth  part 
as  much  pleasure." 

Jack  smiled  somewhat  grimly.  "  Even  eldest 
sons  do  not  always  afford  the  luxury." 

His  uncle  nodded  appreciatively.  "  That  is  so ;  I 
never  kept  one  myself.  But  that  was  not  because  I 
had  not  the  money,  but  because  I  had  not  the  con- 
science. Nevertheless,  it  has  been  a  good  thing  for 
the  estate ;  for  a  conscience  in  full  working  order, 
including  extras,  costs  a  man  several  thousands  a 
year." 

"  I  cannot  agree  with  you  there ;  for  I  have  no- 
ticed that  people  with  several  thousands  a  year  are 
not  as  a  rule  the  people  with  consciences." 

Sir  Roger  chuckled.  "  My  dear  boy,  I  stand  cor- 
rected. As  you  say,  consciences,  like  cottage-pianos 
and  ornate  funerals,  are  among  the  luxuries  of  the 
poor.  Everything  that  costs  much,  and  brings  in 
nothing  in  return,  throws  a  halo  of  respectability 
around  its  possessor  which  the  world  cannot  gain- 
say." 

Jack  began  tugging  at  his  moustache.  This  bit- 
ter little  angel  of  a  man  amused  and  yet  depressed 
him. 

"  Sentiment  is  another  luxury  that  is  expensive," 
continued  the  baronet ;  "  almost  as  expensive  as  con- 
scientiousness, and  your  dear  father  indulged  in  that 
also,  if  my  memory  does  not  mislead  me.  He  threw 
away  a  handsome  fortune  for  the  sake  of  a  handsome 
face.  I  prefer  a  pretty  woman  to  a  plain  one  myself ; 
but  a  hundred  thousand  pounds  is  a  large  sum  to 
pay  for  the  difference  of  a  tenth  part  of  an  inch  be- 
tween two  sets  of  evelashes." 


GREYSTONE.  87 

"  I  cannot  remember  my  mother,  sir,"  said  Jack, 
rather  stiffly. 

"  No ;  there  I  have  the  advantage  of  you.  She 
was  a  lovely  woman,  and  had  the  longest  eyelashes  I 
ever  saw ;  but  they  were  hardly  worth  a  hundred 
thousand  pounds — at  least,  some  men  would  not 
have  thought  so." 

"  I  suppose  that  my  grandfather  wanted  his  son 
to  marry  a  rich  woman,"  said  Jack,  who,  in  spite  of 
himself,  could  not  help  feeling  interested  in  these 
family  histories. 

"  Naturally.  He  was  an  admirable  man  who  had 
his  children's  highest  interests  at  heart.  But  your 
dear  father  was  impracticable ;  and  when  the  heiress 
to  a  hundred  thousand  pounds  lost  her  heart  to  him, 
he  declined  to  marry  her  because  he  said  he  didn't 
love  her ;  as  if  the  two  had  anything  to  do  with  each 
other !  " 

"  And  was  that  why  my  grandfather  would  not 
forgive  him,  and  left  him  nothing  but  that  beggarly 
shilling?  " 

"  It  was.  I  confess  that  my  excellent  father  was 
somewhat  severe  in  his  dealings  with  his  second  son ; 
but  poverty  was  the  one  sin  that  he  found  it  impos- 
sible to  forgive." 

"  Then  why  didn't  you  marry  the  heiress,  sir  ?  " 
asked  Jack  bluntly. 

Sir  Roger's  laugh  was  as  silvery  as  a  girl's.  "  My 
dear  boy,  have  you  yet  to  learn  that  women  value 
men,  as  they  value  salmon,  according  to  their  size, 
and  that  husbands  are  bought  and  sold  by  weight? 
No  woman  will  look  at  a  little  man  while  a  big  man 
is  near;  and  I  weighed  eight  stone  to  my  brother's 
fourteen,  and  measured  five  feet  two  to  his  six  foot 
three." 


88  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  I  see." 

"Consequently  I  never  married.  Of  course  I  found 
plenty  of  charming  and  well-brought-up  young  wom- 
en who  were  ready  to  sacrifice  their  own  selfish  in- 
clinations in  order  to  become  Lady  Le  Mesurier  and 
mistress  of  Greystone ;  but  I  did  not  care  to  be  taken 
with  the  estate  as  one  of  the  least  important  fixtures. 
I  have  my  faults,  I  admit,  but  altruism  has  never 
been  one  of  them.  However,  now  let  us  leave  these 
interesting  and  romantic  subjects,  and  have  some- 
thing to  eat.  You  must  be  hungry  after  your  jour- 
ney." 

After  Jack  had  been  duly  refreshed,  his  uncle  took 
him  all  over  the  house  and  gardens,  and  the  more 
Jack  saw  of  Greystone,  the  more  delightful  he 
thought  it. 

The  two  men  dined  together  in  the  state  dining- 
room,  and  were  duly  waited  upon  by  powdered  foot- 
men, and  feasted  upon  all  the  delicacies  in,  and  out 
of,  season.  Sir  Roger  entertained  his  nephew  with 
stories  of  his  past  life,  and  epigrams  on  his  experi- 
ences therein.  Jack  marvelled  at  the  wit  and  at  the 
heartlessness  of  the  little  man ;  and  listened,  without 
being  edified. 

The  next  day  was  Sunday. 

"  I  make  it  a  rule  to  go  to  church  on  a  Sunday 
morning,"  Sir  Roger  remarked  at  breakfast.  "  I 
consider  it  an  attention  which  is  due  from  the  squire 
to  the  parson.  But  to-day  you  shall  go  in  my 
place." 

"  Certainly,  sir,"  agreed  Jack,  helping  himself  to 
broiled  kidneys. 

"  As  long  as  there  is  a  member  of  the  family  in 
the  hall  pew,  it  cannot  signify  to  the  rector  who  it  is," 
continued  the  baronet. 


GREYSTONE.  89 

"  I  suppose  you  think  that  one  is  as  good  as 
two?" 

"  Precisely.  It  is  equally  polite  to  the  church, 
and  less  fatiguing  to  the  individual." 

Jack  laughed.  "  What  sort  of  a  man  is  the  rec- 
tor?" he  asked. 

"  An  extremely  clever  man,  who  used  to  be  the 
rector  of  a  large  London  parish,  till  he  nearly  killed 
himself  with  overwork  and  came  to  Greystone  for 
rest ;  yet  one  who  is  so  primitive  as  to  practise  what 
he  preaches,  and  to  act  up  to  his  own  convictions." 

"  I  admire  men  who  act  up  to  their  own  convic- 
tions," remarked  Jack  doggedly. 

His  uncle  smiled,  as  he  poured  out  for  himself  a 
cup  of  tea.  "  Young  people  always  do — it  is  one  of 
the  prerogatives  of  youth  to  believe  in  excellence, 
and  one  of  its  pastimes  to  strive  to  emulate  it." 

"  How  does  he  preach  ?  "  asked  Jack. 

"  Capitally,  in  what  I  call  the  dictionarian  style — 
that  is  to  say,  he  adapts  himself  to  his  hearers  and 
presupposes  that  his  congregation  are  as  ignorant  of 
their  dictionaries  as  they  are  of  their  Bibles ;  and  he 
expounds  to  them  the  several  meanings  of  simple 
words.  I  happen  to  possess  a  good  dictionary,  so 
his  sermons  don't  appeal  to  me ;  but  to  any  one  who 
does  not,  I  should  imagine  they  would  prove  invalu- 
able." 

And  then  Sir  Roger  went  on  to  set  forth  his  views 
on  preaching  in  general,  which  were  amusing  if  not 
to  be  approved. 

Jack  duly  went  to  the  old  church  at  Greystone 
and  sat  in  a  square  pew  with  a  fireplace  in  it,  like  a 
cosy  little  parlour,  and  looked  out  on  the  world — or 
rather,  on  the  church — over  the  effigies  of  a  Sir  Lio- 
nel and  Lady  Le  Mesurier,  who  had  lived  and  loved 
7 


90  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

and  died  before  the  Tudors  began  to  reign  in  Eng- 
land. As  he  looked  at  the  still  stone  faces,  he  won- 
dered whether  Sir  Lionel  had  married  for  love  or  for 
lands,  and  whether  "  Dame  Eleanor,  his  wife,"  had 
had  long  or  short  eyelashes.  It  did  not  matter  now 
to  Sir  Lionel,  Jack  mused,  as  he  looked  at  the  old 
warrior  in  his  age-long  slumber,  whether  his  mar- 
riage had  brought  fresh  money  to  the  coffers  or  fresh 
fields  to  the  estate  of  Greystone ;  but  even  now  it 
must  matter  to  him — somewhere  and  somehow — if 
he  sold  his  birthright  of  love  for  a  mess  of  pottage, 
or  if  he  made  himself  a  better  man  for  time  and  for 
eternity  by  choosing  the  best  and  letting  the  second- 
best  go  by. 

As  Jack  sat  in  the  quaint  old  pew,  among  the 
monuments  of  dead  and  gone  Le  Mesuriers,  he  threw 
off  the  paralysing  effect  of  his  uncle's  cultured  sar- 
casm ;  and  he  felt  that  those  sleeping  ancestors  of  his 
must  have  had  a  nobler  creed  and  a  wider  charity 
than  he  who  now  reigned  at  Greystone  in  their 
stead,  or  they  would  never  have  fought  like  heroes 
and  lived  like  Englishmen,  and  have  gone  to  their 
rest  with  that  calm  smile  upon  their  carved  faces. 
And  he  made  up  his  mind  that  those  brave,  simple 
soldiers  were  worth  a  hundred  of  the  sneering  little 
cynic  who  now  filled  their  place  and  bore  their  name, 
and  that  it  was  far  better  to  follow  in  their  footsteps 
than  in  his. 

The  rector  preached  an  excellent  sermon,  which 
was  food  for  the  spiritual  needs  of  his  many  poor 
parishioners,  if  also  for  the  satire  of  his  one  rich  one ; 
and  after  the  service  was  over  he  introduced  himself 
to  Jack,  and  took  the  young  man  into  the  rectory 
garden  to  see  how  the  spring  flowers  were  coin- 
ing out. 


GREYSTONE.  9! 

"  I  am  a  bachelor,  you  know,"  he  said,  with  his 
genial  smile,  that  made  strangers  feel  that  they  had 
known  him  intimately  for  years ;  "  and  I  have  only 
my  flowers  to  make  home  home  to  me.  So  they  have 
to  be  to  me  what  wives  and  children  are  to  hap- 
pier men." 

Jack  duly  admired  the  garden,  so  carefully  tend- 
ed, which  surrounded  the  picturesque  old  rectory, 
and  he  and  the  rector  then  went  on  to  talk  of  other 
things.  Mr.  Cartwright  was  a  man  to  whom  every- 
body liked  to  talk,  because  he  minded  the  things  of 
others  more  than  his  own.  In  fact  he  had  nothing 
of  his  own  worth  calling  so,  save  a  packet  of  old  let- 
ters and  a  memory — or  rather  a  promise — of  a  love 
that  death  could  not  destroy.  In  his  early  youth  he 
had  loved  a  woman,  and  he  had  worked  and  waited 
for  her  for  ten  years.  Then  she  died ;  and  within  a 
year  of  her  death  he  was  appointed  vicar  of  a  wealthy 
London  church,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  was 
in  a  position  to  marry. 

Since  then  he  had  become  rector  of  Greystone, 
and  had  settled  down  alone  in  the  quaint  rectory, 
and  now  lived  for,  and  among,  his  poor.  He  did 
not  look  back  upon  time  past  and  cry  "  Too  late  " ; 
but  he  looked  forward  to  eternity  and  prayed  "  How 
long?" 

When  Jack  left  the  rectory  he  returned  to  the 
hall  to  lunch,  and  he  spent  the  afternoon  in  wander- 
ing at  will  all  over  the  estate.  He  could  not  help 
feeling  proud  to  think  that  his  forefathers  had 
walked  over  these  same  fields  for  so  many  genera- 
tions ;  nor  could  he  stifle  a  wish  that — although  the 
entail  was  now  cut  off — his  uncle  would  leave  the  es- 
tate to  him,  the  only  other  representative  of  that 
branch  of  the  family. 


g2  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

The  longing  to  possess  land  is  strong  in  every 
Englishman's  heart ;  and  when  a  man's  forefathers 
have  possessed  the  land  before  him,  the  longing 
grows  into  a  passion,  and  will  not  be  put  to  silence. 
So  it  was  with  Jack. 

After  dinner,  when  the  two  men  were  sitting  over 
their  wine,  Sir  Roger  suddenly  said  :  "  There  is  some- 
thing that  I  have  to  say  to  you,  Jack,  and  I  have  sent 
for  you  down  from  London  on  purpose  that  you  may 
hear  it." 

Jack  listened  attentively  while  his  uncle  went  on : 

"  As  you  are  doubtless  aware,  the  property  is  not 
entailed,  and  I  can  leave  it  as  I  wish." 

"  Yes,  I  know." 

"  The  title,  of  course,  must  come  to  you,  and  I 
made  up  my  mind  some  time  ago  that  the  estate 
should  go  with  the  title,  if  you  happened  to  be  the 
sort  of  man  that  I  approve  of.  Therefore  I  sent  for 
you,  '  on  appro.,'  as  the  shopkeepers  say." 

Jack's  heart  beat  very  fast.  He  wanted  Greystone 
more  than  anything  else  in  the  world — except  Ethel ; 
and  a  man  cannot  hear  his  heart's  desire  being  ban- 
died about  within  his  grasp,  without  experiencing 
some  sort  of  emotion ;  at  least,  not  a  man  under 
thirty. 

Sir  Roger  continued  :  "  I  like  you  ;  I  like  you  ex- 
tremely. In  fact,  you  do  not  possess  any  one  of  the 
virtues  to  which  I  most  object.  So  I  have  decided  to 
make  you  my  heir." 

Jack  wanted  to  say  something  very  effective,  he 
was  feeling  so  much ;  but  all  that  he  succeeded  in 
uttering  was,  "  I  say,  I'm  awfully  obliged  to  you." 

His  uncle  stopped  him  with  a  wave  of  his  small 
white  hand. 

"  Do  not  thank  me,  my  dear  boy,  till  you  hear  the 


GREYSTONE. 


93 


only  condition  that  I  shall  make.  You  should  never 
thank  people  for  anything  until  you  know  their  mo- 
tives for  giving  it ;  when  you  have  learnt  these,  the 
desire  to  give  thanks  is  usually  no  more." 

"  May  I  ask  what  stipulation  you  think  neces- 
sary ?  "  asked  Jack,  and  so  intense  was  his  excitement 
that  his  voice  shook. 

"  Certainly,  my  dear  boy,  certainly.  I  have  de- 
cided to  leave  Greystone  to  you,  with  whatever 
money  I  may  happen  to  have  in  hand  at  the  time,  on 
condition  that  you  will  marry  a  lady  of  fortune.  If 
you  find  yourself  unable  to  oblige  me  in  this  respect, 
I  shall  leave  all  my  property  to  the  Irish  branch  of 
the  family." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence.  Jack's  heart  had 
suddenly  sunk  into  his  boots,  and  his  face  looked 
white  and  drawn. 

"  I  shall  now  leave  the  matter  entirely  in  your 
hands,"  added  Sir  Roger  airily,  "  and  you  must 
please  yourself.  If  you  don't  happen  to  be  in 
love  with  anybody,  you  can  easily  fall  in  love  with 
a  rich  girl ;  if  you  happen  to  be  in  love  with  a  girl 
who  isn't  rich — well,  you  can  still  marry  one  who 
is." 

"  Love  cannot  be  controlled  in  that  way,"  said 
Jack  angrily. 

"  Indeed.     Why  not?" 

Jack  got  up  from  his  chair  and  walked  about  the 
room,  while  his  uncle  regarded  him  with  mild  amuse- 
ment. 

"  All  men,"  continued  the  latter,  "'  begin  life  by 
imagining  themselves  heroes  endowed  with  excep- 
tional genius,  and  they  expect  the  world  to  regard 
them  as  such.  The  world  naturally  does  no  such 
thing.  When  the  world  fails  them  in  this  respect, 


94 


A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 


they  recognize  the  necessity  of  appointing  some  one 
to  fulfil  the  obvious  and  neglected  duty  of  offering 
them  the  adoration  and  submission  which  are  merely 
their  due.  It  is  this  feeling  which  induces  them  to 
marry,  and  for  lack  of  a  better  name  they  call  it 
love." 

Still  Jack  did  not  speak.  He  was  struggling 
against  a  wave  of  helpless  anger,  and  its  helplessness 
overwhelmed  him. 

His  uncle  smiled.  "  For  my  part  I  fail  to  see 
why  the  incense  offered  by  a  beggar-maid  is  more 
subtle  in  its  flattery,  or  more  soothing  in  its  effect, 
than  that  sprinkled  by  an  heiress.  The  rich  and  the 
poor  are  equally  devout  worshippers,  I  believe ;  but 
the  difference  between  them  is  shown  when  it  is  time 
for  the  collection.  And  it  is  always  time  for  the  col- 
lection in  the  temple  of  Mammon." 

"  I  think  it  is  vile  to  make  love  to  a  woman  just 
because  she  is  rich !  " 

"  Most  unwise,  my  dear  boy ;  it  is  merely  an  ex- 
cellent reason  for  marrying  her.  Love  in  a  cottage 
is  doubtless  a  most  delightful  arrangement  in  spring- 
time ;  but  for  the  winter  one  requires  more  substan- 
tial comforts." 

"  According  to  poets,  where  love  is  it  is  always 
spring,"  said  Jack,  somewhat  grandiloquently. 

"  Precisely ;  and  where  poverty  is  it  is  generally 
Lent,"  added  his  uncle.  "  But  let  us  go  into  the 
drawing-room  and  finish  our  pleasant  little  chat  there. 
It  feels  warmer  there  than  here,  and  it  is  winter  time 
with  me,  you  know,  though  you  are  still  springlike 
— one  might  almost  say  green." 

So  they  walked  through  the  oak-panelled  hall  into 
the  state  drawing-room ;  and  for  the  moment  Jack 
felt  as  if  he  hated  all  the  fine  things  which  were 


GREYSTONE. 


95 


being  heaped  into  the  scales  in  order  to  weigh  down 
Ethel. 

"  Love-making,  my  dear  boy,"  continued  the 
baronet  in  his  silvery  voice,  "  is  doubtless  a  most 
agreeable  pastime.  But  marriage  is  a  remunerative 
profession.  When  love-making  ceases  to  be  agree- 
able, and  marriage  to  be  remunerative,  their  raison 
d'etre  is  gone." 

Jack  longed  to  defy  the  old  man,  and  to  tell  him 
to  his  face  that  his  philosophy  of  life  was  a  lie ;  but 
somehow  his  uncle's  cool  contempt  took  all  the  spirit 
out  of  him,  and  left  him  like  a  whipped  schoolboy. 

"  Some  men,"  mused  Sir  Roger,  "  make  love  to  a 
woman  because  they  think  her  the  most  attractive 
woman  in  the  world ;  others  make  love  to  her  merely 
because  she  happens  to  be  the  most  attractive  woman 
in  the  room.  I  often  wonder  if  the  woman  knows 
the  difference  between  the  two  brands.  I  should 
doubt  it." 

"  I  daresay  you  think  me  an  ass,  but  to  me  love 
is  the  most  sacred  thing  in  the  world,  and  so  I  can- 
not make  fun  of  it,  or  treat  it  lightly." 

Sir  Roger  laughed  softly  to  himself  as  he  warmed 
his  hands,  which  were  as  small  and  delicate  as  a 
girl's,  over  the  huge  wood  fire.  "  My  dear  boy,  how 
deliciously  elementary  of  you !  How  picturesquely 
prehistoric !  I  felt  exactly  like  that  myself  when  I 
was  your  age,  but  Time — and  a  woman — taught  me 
my  mistake." 

Jack  looked  at  his  uncle  curiously :  so  there  had 
been  a  woman  in  the  old  cynic's  story  after  all.  "  If 
one  woman  is  heartless,  it  doesn't  prove  that  all  the 
rest  are,"  he  said. 

"  Logically,  perhaps  not ;  but  you  will  find  that 
when  you  have  proved  to  a  demonstration  the  shal- 


96  A  DOUBLE   THREAD. 

lowness  and  fickleness  of  one  particular  woman,  your 
zeal  in  making  further  investigations  into  the  in- 
teresting subject  will  have  considerably  cooled.  It  is 
not  to  the  burnt  child  that  we  must  look  for  discov- 
•eries  as  to  the  development  of  the  steam-engine." 

"  I  suppose  not." 

"  In  selecting  a  wife  I  must  leave  you  to  please 
yourself  entirely,"  continued  Sir  Roger  with  much 
generosity ;  "  as  long  as  she  has  a  fortune  sufficient 
to  keep  up  Greystone  the  length  of  her  eyelashes  is 
immaterial.  I  would  dissuade  you  from  marrying 
a  dull  woman,  if  you  can  help  it;  dulness  being  the 
only  unpardonable  sin  in  the  nineteenth  century. 
Nowadays  it  is  provincial  for  a  woman  to  be  dull." 

"  I  hate  dull  women  as  much  as  you  do,  sir." 

Jack  felt  himself  so  completely  at  the  mercy  of 
this  bland  and  bitter  little  man  that  he  was  becoming 
weakly  irritable. 

His  uncle  smiled.  "  Hardly  as  much  as  I  do,  my 
dear  Jack :  you  haven't  it  in  you  to  hate  as  I  can. 
I  would  also  discourage  you  from  selecting  the  plain 
housekeeping  species ;  those  dreary,  domestic  ani- 
mals who  think  that  when  they  know  how  long  a 
tablecloth  ought  to  keep  clean,  and  what  are  the 
proper  wages  for  a  kitchen-maid,  they  have  learnt  all 
that  the  wisdom  of  the  centuries  is  capable  of  teach- 
ing a  woman.  This,  however,  is  a  matter  of  taste, 
and  I  am  merely  offering  advice — not  issuing  com- 
mands ;  but  let  there  be  no  mistake  about  the  money. 
I  have  lived  extravagantly  and  spent  more  than  I 
ought ;  so  that,  unless  you  marry  a  fortune,  you 
could  never  afford  to  live  at  Greystone  even  if  you 
had  the  chance,  and  I  should  see  that  you  never  did 
have  the  chance.  Now  let  us  change  the  subject; 
talking  about  the  same  thing  for  long  is  always  tire- 


GREYSTONE. 


97 


some,  and  this  particular  subject  does  not  appear  to 
act  either  as  a  stimulant  to  your  wit  or  a  soporific  to 
your  temper.  But  before  we  finally  leave  it,  allow 
me  to  remark  in  passing  that  a  little  bird  has  told  me 
that  the  late  Lord  Harland's  heiress  is  not  indifferent 
to  your  attentions." 

Jack  pulled  his  moustache  without  speaking. 
What  was  the  good  of  arguing  with  this  childlike 
demon  ? 

"  Elfrida  Harland,"  murmured  the  old  man,  half 
to  himself,  "  has  close  upon  fifteen  thousand  a  year. 
Her  eyelashes,  I  hear,  are  as  long  as  any  man  could 
desire ;  and  her  tongue,  perhaps,  a  little  longer." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    PINK    DIAMOND. 

"  But  as  for  myself,  I  have  piped  so  long 

The  jangling  refrains  of  the  market-place, 
That  now  I  am  deaf  to  the  seraph-song 

Which  is  floating  for  ever  through  fields  of  space." 

THE  late  Lady  Harland  was  the  daughter  of  Lord 
Langstone,  and  brought  her  husband  no  fortune  save 
such  prestige  as  her  rank  conferred  upon  him,  and  a 
wonderful  pink  diamond  that  she  had  inherited  from 
an  aunt. 

This  diamond  had  originally  been  brought  from 
India ;  and  strange  tales  were  told  of  its  magic  prop- 
erties. It  was  said  that  if  any  woman  gave  it  to  the 
man  she  loved,  that  man  was  bound  to  love  her,  and 
her  only,  till  his  dying  day ;  and  it  was  whispered  that 
more  than  one  favourite  wife — on  her  way  to  her 
Suttee — had  given  the  pink  diamond  to  daughter  or 
friend,  praying  that  it  might  bring  to  the  latter,  as 
it  had  brought  to  her,  the  unchangeable  love  of  her 
lord  and  master. 

The  beautiful  Emilia  Langstone  had  received  this 
stone  from  her  father's  brother,  who  had  spent  his 
life  in  India,  and  had  left  his  heart  there  in  the  grave 
of  a  lovely  native  princess,  the  giver  to  him  of  the 
pink  diamond. 
98 


THE   PINK   DIAMOND. 


99 


Emilia,  in  her  turn,  presented  the  stone  to  a  sailor 
lover,  and  waited  for  long  years  till  he  should  come 
home  and  claim  her.  At  last  he  came,  having  made 
a  fortune  in  the  West  Indies  ;  but  not  till  her  hair  was 
grey  and  her  beauty  faded.  Then  they  married,  and 
lived  happily  together  for  as  much  of  life  as  was  still 
left  to  them.  When  the  old  sailor  died  his  widow 
survived  him  by  only  three  months;  for  he  had  been 
her  devoted  lover  to  the  end,  and  she  found  the  world 
too  cold  to  live  in  now  that  he  was  gone.  She  left 
the  diamond  to  her  niece  Alethea. 

Alethea  Langstone  was  not  as  beautiful  as  her 
aunt  had  been ;  but  she  possessed  great  distinction 
of  manner  and  carriage,  and  was  an  undoubtedly 
handsome  young  woman.  As  was  natural,  having 
no  money  herself,  she  fell  madly  in  love  with  a  penni- 
less young  subaltern.  He  was  a  distant  cousin,  and 
once  spent  his  leave  at  Langstone  Hall ;  and  he  and 
Alethea  had  a  most  delightful  winter  together,  riding 
to  hounds  and  making  love  to  each  other. 

Of  course  they  knew  that  they  should  have  to 
wait  for  years  and  years ;  but  they  were  so  much  in 
love  that  they  laughed  at  time  and  space.  Alethea 
spent  all  her  pocket-money  in  having  the  pink  dia- 
mond set  in  a  ring  for  Claude ;  and  with  that  magic 
charm  upon  his  finger  he  would  be  true  to  her,  she 
knew,  to  the  death.  Her  trust  in  the  stone  was  not 
misplaced  ;  for  on  the  very  day  after  she  gave  it  to 
him  he  broke  his  neck  on  the  hunting-field,  and  she 
drew  the  newly-made  ring  from  off  the  dead  boy's 
hand.  At  first  she  thought  that  her  heart  was 
broken ;  and  to  a  certain  extent  it  was ;  but  in  time 
it  was  patched  up  sufficiently  to  enable  her  to  marry 
that  rising  lawyer,  Sir  George  (afterwards  Lord) 
Harland,  and  to  help  him  to  make  his  way  with  her 


IOO  A  DOUBLE   THREAD. 

in  society,  as  well  as  he  had  made  it  in  the  world 
without  her. 

So  she  did  not  die  at  seventeen  of  a  broken  heart 
after  all ;  but  at  seventy,  from  the  combined  effects  of 
too  much  luxury  and  too  little  love. 

Lady  Harland  left  the  pink  diamond  to  her  grand- 
daughter Elfrida,  having  duly  informed  the  latter  of 
the  magic  properties  pertaining  to  the  stone.  It 
was  now  kept  at  the  bank,  with  the  rest  of  the  de- 
ceased peeress's  jewels,  as  Elfrida  had  more  than 
enough  jewellery  of  her  own  for  the  wear  of  an 
unmarried  woman ;  but  Miss  Harland  was  extreme- 
ly proud  of  possessing  a  gem  which  was  celebrated 
on  account  of  its  supposed  supernatural  powers, 
and  she  would  have  regretted  the  loss  of  this  one 
stone  more  than  that  of  any  other  of  her  posses- 
sions. 

As  the  weeks  rolled  on,  Elfrida  felt  herself  caring 
for  Jack  more  and  more.  She  did  not  show  this  in 
the  least  in  her  manner.  She  still  wore  the  mask  of 
clever  coldness  which  had  slipped  off  for  a  moment 
when  she  spoke  to  him  about  Ethel,  and  had  been  so 
quickly  replaced ;  but  Jack  could  not  help  remem- 
bering that  it  had  once  slipped  off,  and  had  shown 
him  that  the  Elfrida  he  knew  was  not  the  real  one. 
He  also  could  not  help  remembering  his  uncle's 
words  as  to  Elfrida's  reputed  liking  for  him,  and  how 
much  that  liking  might  mean. 

Poor  Jack  was  not  in  a  happy  mood  just  then  ;  he 
was  torn  by  conflicting  emotions,  which  is  a  most 
exhausting  form  of  exercise.  On  the  one  hand  were 
Elfrida  and  Greystone,  and  an  enormous  fortune  ;  and 
on  the  other  were  Ethel  and  India,  and  a  moderate 
pension  after  his  full  time  was  served  and  his  health 
probably  ruined ;  and  Jack  was  conscious  that  if  he 


THE   PINK   DIAMOND.  1OI 

had  not  fallen  in  love  with  Ethel  he  would  in  all  prob- 
ability have  fallen  in  love  with  Elfrida. 

Still,  the  fact  remained  that  he  had  fallen  in  love 
with  Ethel,  and,  what  is  more,  had  practically  told 
her  so ;  and  Jack  was  a  gentleman.  The  fact  also 
remained  that  Ethel  needed  some  one  to  fight  her 
battles  for  her,  and  Elfrida  did  not ;  and  Jack  was  a 
soldier.  Thirdly,  it  happened  that  Elfrida  said  dis- 
agreeable things,  and  Ethel  did  not ;  and  Jack  was 
a  man. 

He  wrote  to  Ethel,  as  he  said  he  would,  from 
time  to  time ;  and  she  answered  him,  according  to 
her  promise.  But  all  his  letters  were  sent  to  Sunny- 
dale  to  be  forwarded,  and  she  never  put  any  address 
upon  hers.  Jack  could  not  help  feeling  that  this  se- 
crecy as  to  her  place  of  residence  was  rather  strange, 
and  especially  so  when  coupled  with  Elfrida's  mys- 
terious hints  as  to  the  impassable  gulf  fixed  between 
the  twin  sisters ;  but  he  possessed  in  rare  measure 
that  most  excellent  gift  of  perfect  loyalty  to  his 
friends,  so  he  strangled  any  doubts  about  the  woman 
he  loved  before  ever  they  saw  the  light. 

Of  course  he  could  not  prove  that  his  perfect 
trust  in  Ethel  was  not  misplaced,  but  he  knew  it  all 
the  same.  It  is  not  always  the  facts  that  can  be  dem- 
onstrated of  which  we  are  the  most  sure. 

Again  and  again  Jack  introduced  Ethel's  name 
into  his  conversations  with  her  sister,  but  never  with 
any  marked  success.  If  possible,  Elfrida  changed 
the  subject;  and,  if  not,  she  merely  repeated  her 
statement  that  it  was  utterly  out  of  her  power  to  es- 
tablish intimate  relations  between  herself  and  her  sis- 
ter, and  declined  to  say  any  more. 

Jack — with  characteristic  loyalty — tried  to  believe 
in  Elfrida  as  well  as  in  Ethel ;  but  this  proved  to  be 


IO2  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

a  miracle  beyond  the  power  of  his  faith ;  faith  in  this 
case  not  being  seconded  by  charity,  which  is  only  an- 
other name  for  love. '  He  could  not  imagine  any 
reason  which  would  justify  such  cold  indifference  and 
such  callous  selfishness  on  the  part  of  the  wealthy 
Miss  Harland ;  yet  she  had  assured  him  over  and 
over  again,  with  every  profession  of  sincerity,  that 
there  was  an  insurmountable  barrier  between  the 
twins  which  made  it  utterly  impossible  for  her  to  see 
Ethel,  or  even  to  send  her  some  share  of  her  own 
abundant  wealth. 

It  was  no  wonder  that  Jack  was  puzzled.  A  clev- 
erer man  than  he  would  have  found  it  an  enigma  not 
easy  to  solve. 

He  and  Elfrida  did  not  see  each  other  very  fre- 
quently ;  but,  in  spite  of  the  growing  distrust  of  her 
in  his  heart,  he  could  not  help  feeling  to  some  extent 
her  power  of  fascination.  Although  she  and  Ethel 
were  in  some  respects  so  different — the  one  being  so 
studied  and  the  other  so  spontaneous — they  pos- 
sessed the  same  personal  charm  ;  and  the  likeness  be- 
tween them  was  so  strong  that  now  and  then  Jack 
almost  loved  Elfrida  for  Ethel's  sake ;  while  at  other 
times — that  is  to  say,  when  the  former  was  specially 
sarcastic  and  cynical — this  very  likeness  irritated  and 
annoyed  him. 

But  it  is  dangerous  work  for  a  woman  when  a 
man  talks  to  her  because  she  happens  to  remind  him 
of  her  sister.  Sometimes  it  is  also  dangerous  work 
for  the  man. 

"Do  you  see  much  of  Captain  Le  Mesurier?" 
asked  Lady  Silverhampton  one  day  when  Elfrida  was 
lunching  with  her. 

"  I  see  him  now  and  then,  but  not  very  often.  It 
is  difficult  to  see  anybody  often  in  London." 


THE    PINK   DIAMOND. 


103 


"  Unless  you  want  to,  and  then  you  can  see  them 
every  day  and  twice  on  Sundays." 

"  How  do  you  manage  the  twice  on  Sundays?  " 
Elfrida  asked. 

"  By  going  to  the  same  church  as  they  do  in  the 
morning,  and  by  letting  them  call  upon  you  in  the 
afternoon,  of  course.  I  remember  being  frightfully 
in  love  with  a  man  before  I  met  Silverhampton.  I 
forget  his  name,  but  it  was  something  that  began 
with  H  and  ended  with  ton — Haddington  ? — Harring- 
ton ? — Hamilton !  What  was  the  man's  name  ?  I 
shall  forget  my  own  name  next !  "  And  her  ladyship 
indulged  in  that  exhausting  hunt  after  a  lost  name 
which  is  one  of  the  most  fatiguing  forms  of  mental 
research. 

"  Only  his  name  never  was  yours,  you  see,"  added 
Elfrida ;  "  '  and  thereby  hangs  a  tale.'  " 

But  Lady  Silverhampton  did  not  hear.  She  was 
repeating  to  herself  a  string  of  names  beginning  with 
//  and  ending  with  ton. 

"  I  know  what  it  was,"  she  suddenly  cried,  with  a 
Eureka  smile  on  her  face ;  "  it  was  Addison.  I 
really  was  frightfully  in  love  with  him.  It  used  to 
give  me  a  regular  thrill  when  I  heard  him  blow  his 
nose  in  church.  Ah !  here  is  Stonebridge,"  she 
added,  rising  to  greet  her  guest.  "  How  do  you  do  ? 
I  am  so  glad  to  get  you  and  Elfrida  gathered  together 
round  my  hospitable  board ;  you  are  such  dear, 
amusing  people." 

"  I  am  very  pleased  that  our  conversation  amuses 
you,  my  lady." 

"  It  doesn't.  It  is  my  conversation  that  amuses 
you,  and  that  is  why  I  like  you  so  much.  Silver- 
hampton is  an  old  darling,  and  admires  me  enor^ 
mously ;  but  he  doesn't  really  appreciate  me.  He 


IO4  A   DOUBLE    THREAD. 

has  no  idea  that  I  am  most  serious  when  I  am  funny, 
and  most  funny  when  I  am  serious." 

"  But  married  life  with  a  person  who  thoroughly 
understood  one  might  be  difficult  ?  "  suggested  Lord 
Stonebridge. 

"  Difficult?  It  would  be  absolutely  impossible. 
As  I  have  just  pointed  out  to  you,  we  like  best  the 
people  who  appreciate  our  jokes ;  but  we  love  best 
the  people  who  believe  our  fibs.  Silverhampton  be- 
lieves every  one  of  mine,  the  old  dear !  And  he  gets 
plenty  of  practice." 

"  Begin  making  jokes,"  said  Lord  Stonebridge, 
seating  himself  at  the  luncheon-table,  "  and  Miss 
Harland  and  I  will  hold  our  sides  to  your  heart's 
content,  we  promise  you." 

"  I  can't  make  jokes  before  I've  finished  my  lunch. 
My  wit  is  all  of  the  P.  M.  variety,  and  never  scin- 
tillates in  the  morning.  Making  jokes  before  lunch 
is  as  bad  as  making  love  before  lunch ;  and  they  are 
both  as  bad  as  going  to  the  play  in  the  afternoon." 

"  Lots  of  people  do  make  love  before  lunch," 
said  Elfrida.  "  I  see  them  in  Kensington  Gardens." 

"  Not  well-to-do  people.  Nobody  with  over  a 
hundred  a  year  makes  love  before  lunch-time.  You 
may  take  this  as  an  axiom,  and  safely  refuse  all  the 
early  birds." 

"  I  suppose  the  explanation  is  that  no  one  who 
can  afford  it  is  awake  before  lunch-time.  It  is  only 
the  poor  who  desecrate  the  stillness  of  the  morning 
hours  by  work,"  Lord  Stonebridge  suggested. 

Lady  Silverhampton  shook  her  head.  "  That  is 
no  explanation,  but  rather  the  reverse.  It  is  not 
when  one  is  most  wideawake  that  one  makes  love, 
you  know.  You  are  not  up  to  your  usual  form  this 
morning." 


THE   PINK   DIAMOND. 


105 


"  I  haven't  had  my  lunch." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  when  you  have 
had  it?" 

"  Talk  to  you — I  beg  your  pardon,  I  mean  listen 
while  you  talk  to  me — till  you  are  tired  of  me;  and 
then  go  forth  to  pay  some  duty-calls." 

"  Oh !  don't  waste  your  time  in  doing  your  duty ; 
it  is  as  reckless  as  wasting  your  money  in  paying 
your  debts.  I  never  do  either." 

''  Besides,"  said  Elfrida,  "  you  are  always  so  sorry 
afterwards.  Our  good  deeds,  unfortunately,  are  as 
irrevocable  as  our  evil  ones ;  and  while  we  frequently 
regret  it  when  we  have  done  wrong,  we  invariably 
regret  it  when  we  have  done  right." 

Lady  Silverhampton  nodded.  "  I  know ;  your 
conscience  only  purrs  for  about  an  hour,  and  then 
you  wake  up  to  the  consciousness  that  you've  had  no 
fun  and  nothing  to  show  for  it.  Only  last  week  I  went 
to  see  Mrs.  Gardiner,  who  is  ill,  instead  of  going  to 
Maud  Greenway's  party ;  and  I  found  out  afterwards 
that  Mrs.  Gardiner  said  I'd  talked  so  much  I'd  made 
her  worse,  while  Maud's  party  was  the  smartest  thing 
of  the  season.  It  seems  to  me  that  unselfishness 
pleases  nobody,  while  selfishness  at  any  rate  pleases 
yourself." 

Elfrida  laughed.  "  Do  you  remember  poor  Mr. 
Featherdew,  who  was  so  unselfish  and  good  and  yet 
could  never  get  any  girl  to  dance  with  him  ?  He  was 
wounded  to  the  quick  when  all  the  women  cut  him, 
and  he  couldn't  make  it  out.  At  last  he  discovered 
that  he  had  the  reputation  of  being  so  unselfish  that 
he  always  danced  with  the  ugliest  girls  in  the  room. 
No  man  could  outlive  such  a  reputation  as  that,  so  he 
left  town." 

"  What  a  nice  moral  story !  "  said  Lord  Stone- 
8 


106  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

bridge ;  "  I'm  so  thankful  to  remember  that  I've 
never  been  unselfish.  I  always  dance  with  and  talk 
to  the  women  that  I  admire;  and  leave  the  other 
women — like  the  pence — to  take  care  of  them- 
selves." 

"  I  hate  a  man  who  is  unselfish,"  said  Elfrida, 
"  just  as  I  hate  a  man  who  sings  falsetto.  They  are 
both  poor  imitations  of  a  woman,  I  think." 

Lady  Silverhampton  shrugged  her  shoulders. 
"  What  an  unmarried  remark !  A  selfish  man  is  like 
a  picture  by  Hogarth — very  characteristic  but  horrid 
to  live  with.  You  are  as  silly  as  the  inexperienced 
bachelors  who  say  they  like  a  woman  with  spirit,  by 
which  they  mean  temper ;  and  that  is  the  sort  of  spirit 
that  quickly  gets  into  hot  water,  as  they  learn  when 
they  are  married." 

"  But  you  have  just  been  sticking  up  for  selfish- 
ness," remonstrated  Miss  Harland.  "  Only  half  a 
minute  ago." 

"  Not  in  a  husband,  stupid !  In  myself.  Can't 
3rou  see  the  difference?  Selfishness  is  like  a  bass 
voice  or  a  chemical  works — a  source  of  pleasure  and 
profit  to  the  possessor,  and  a  nuisance  to  everybody 
else.  Never  marry  a  selfish  man,  whatever  you  do : 
a  conscientious  one  even  would  be  better,  though 
conscientious  people  are  difficult  enough  to  manage, 
goodness  knows !  They  always  think  that  what 
pleases  them  is  not  right,  and  that  what  pleases  other 
people  is  absolutely  wrong;  and  that  is  so  tiresome 
for  everybody." 

"  Very  boring,"  murmured  Lord  Stonebridge. 

After  lunch  was  over,  Lady  Silverhampton  said : 
"  Now  you  two  must  amuse  one  another  for  half  an 
hour,  while  I  answer  some  frightfully  important  let- 
ters that  I've  forgotten  for  the  last  week;  and  then 


THE   PINK   DIAMOND. 


107 


I'll  take  you  both  for  a  drive  in  the  Park,  if  you  are 
good." 

So  her  ladyship  bustled  off  to  perform  her  de- 
ferred epistolary  duties,  and  left  her  two  guests  in  the 
library  to  entertain  each  other.  As  is  inevitable  when 
one  of  a  trio  leaves  a  room,  the  two  began  to  talk 
about  the  third. 

"  Isn't  she  charming?  "  Miss  Harland  began. 

"  She  is  the  most  charming  woman  in  London," 
replied  Lord  Stonebridge,  who  had  been  in  love  with 
Lady  Silverhampton  in  her  youth,  and  was  conse- 
quently not  bored  by  her  middle-aged  friendship. 

"  She  never  makes  any  demands  upon  her 
friends,"  said  Elfrida;  "  that  is  why  she  is  so  delight- 
ful. Most  people  expect  you  to  be  fond  of  them  or 
interested  in  them  or  something;  and  all  that  is  such 
a  nuisance.  Now  Evelyn  never  expects  anything 
from  anybody." 

"  And  consequently  gets  everything  from  every- 
body," Lord  Stonebridge  added. 

"Hardly  that,  I  think;  but  still  she  is  a  dear 
woman,  and  never  allows  one  to  feel  for  a  moment 
that  it  is  one's  duty  to  be  fond  of  her.  If  she  did, 
her  charm  would  be  gone." 

"  Affection  is  a  recreation — not  a  profession." 

"  Of  course  it  is.  But  hov  many  people  seem  to 
think  that  disliking  them  is  on  a  par  with  receiving 
stolen  goods,  or  breaking  the  Sabbath!  Now  Eve- 
lyn never  asks  anything  of  her  friends  except  that 
they  shall  laugh  at  her  jokes;  she  says  she  doesn't 
even  mind  if  they  don't  listen,  provided  that  they 
laugh  in  the  right  places." 

"  She  is  certainly  the  least  exacting  woman  I  ever 
met." 

"  Exacting  women  are  a  terrible  nuisance,"  re- 


108  A   DOUBLE    THREAD. 

marked  Elfrida ;  "  they  expect  the  impossible,  and 
are  in  consequence  disappointed  every  time  that  the 
inevitable  occurs.  And  the  inevitable  has  a  habit  of 
occurring  pretty  often." 

"  It  would  be  terrible  to  marry  an  exacting  wom- 
an, don't  you  think  ? — one  of  those  exhausting  crea- 
tures who  expect  a  man  to  forego  his  very  dinner  for 
the  sake  of  talking  to  them,"  said  Lord  Stonebridge, 
who  had  imagined  that  his  heart  was  broken  when 
Evelyn  Murray  refused  him  twenty  years  ago,  and 
had  by  now  almost  forgotten  the  incident. 

"  Then  don't  you  believe  in  the  old-fashioned  sort 
of  love  that  one  reads  about  in  story-books  ?  " 

"  Good  gracious,  no !  "  replied  Stonebridge,  who 
had  once  fancied  that  he  should  die  because  Evelyn 
Murray  became  Lady  Silverhampton.  "  I  don't 
mean  to  say  that  affection  is  not  a  very  comfortable 
thing;  but  to  pretend  that  it  is  a  matter  of  life  and 
death  is  simple  folly,  don't  you  know  ?  " 

Elfrida  sighed.  "  I  suppose  the  days  are  over 
when  men  fought  to  the  death  to  win  their  lady- 
loves." 

"  Over !  I  don't  believe  they  ever  existed  save 
in  the  brains  of  poets  and  schoolgirls,"  laughed 
Stonebridge,  completely  forgetting  that  he  had  once 
sworn  he  would  shoot  Silverhampton  through  the 
head,  even  if  he  had  to  swing  for  it. 

"  Still  it  was  a  pretty  idea." 

"  I  don't  agree  with  you,  Miss  Harland.  I  think 
a  comfortable,  everyday  affection  is  twenty  times  bet- 
ter than  that  feverish  sort  of  nonsense  which  poetas- 
ters invented  and  then  advertised.  Love,  after  all,  is 
but  the  completion  and  apotheosis  of  a  long  and  tried 
friendship,"  argued  the  man,  who  had  fallen  in  love 
with  Evelyn  Murray  the  first  time  he  saw  her,  and 


THE   PINK   DIAMOND. 


109 


proposed  to  her  the  second.  But  that  was  more  than 
twenty  years  ago,  which  makes  all  the  difference. 
u  The  best  sort  of  wife  for  a  man  is  a  woman  whose 
friendship  he  has  enjoyed  for  years,  and  who  knows 
all  his  tastes  and  all  the  ins-and-outs  of  his  life; 
whose  friends  are  his  friends,  and  whose  pleasures 
are  his  pleasures." 

Elfrida  shrugged  her  shoulders.  Lord  Stone- 
bridge's  ideal  seemed  rather  dull  to  her ;  but  twenty- 
five  and  forty-five  look  at  things  so  differently. 

"  Believe  me,"  his  lordship  continued,  "  that  a  sin- 
cere and  abiding  friendship  between  husband  and 
wife  is  the  only  permanent  foundation  for  happiness ; 
and  this  is  the  reason  why  I  venture  to  ask  you  to 
unite  your  lot  with  mine.  I  do  not  pretend  to  feel 
the  sort  of  rapture  that  exists  only  in  fairy  tales ;  you 
would  laugh  at  me  if  I  did.  But  I  can  honestly  say 
that  I  have  a  very  sincere  and  deep  affection  for  you, 
and  that  I  believe  I  can  make  you  happy.  We  know 
the  same  people — we  are  in  the  same  set — we  enjoy 
the  same  things ;  therefore  there  is  every  reason  to 
suppose  that  our  life  together  would  run  smoothly 
and  pleasantly." 

But  Elfrida  shook  her  head.  She  was  as  yet  too 
young  to  be  satisfied  with  smoothness  and  pleasant- 
ness. Easy  roads  are  not  attractive  to  those  who 
would  fain  mount  up  on  wings  as  eagles. 

"  I  don't  think  it  would  do,"  she  said. 

"  But  why  not?  It  seems  to  me  most  suitable 
from  every  point  of  view.  You  are  a  woman  spe- 
cially formed  to  adorn  a  high  position,  and  my  title 
and  family  are  old ;  you  are  intolerant  of  sentimental 
absurdity,  and  I  am  the  most  practical  of  men ;  you 
have  no  romantic  ideals,  and  I  have  outgrown  mine ; 
and,  finally,  the  dread  of  your  existence  is  to  be 


HO  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

bored,  and  I  flatter  myself  I  never  bored  a  woman 
yet." 

"  Nevertheless,  it  wouldn't  do." 

"  But  it  would  do,  my  dear  Miss  Harland ;  believe 
me  it  would.  As  long  as  two  persons  are  of  one 
mind  as  to  what  is  true  humour  and  what  is  bad 
form,  they  are  bound  to  be  happy  together;  and  we 
have  never  disagreed  on  either  of  these  points  yet." 

"  That  is  so,  I  admit." 

"  Then  where  does  the  difficulty  lie?  There  is  a 
difference  in  age,  I  admit ;  but  only  about  twenty 
years,  and  it  is  on  -the  right  side." 

"  Oh !  it  isn't  the  age,"  Elfrida  admitted ;  "  I  hate 
boys.  But  all  the  same  I  feel  it  would  be  a  mistake." 

Lord  Stonebridge  smiled.  "  When  one  is  young 
one  is  too  much  afraid  of  making  mistakes ;  that  is 
the  reason  why  youth  is  the  season  when  the  majority 
of  mistakes  are  made.  Now  tell  me  what  is  your  ob- 
jection to  me." 

"  My  dear  Lord  Stonebridge,  the  fact  that  a  wom- 
an doesn't  object  to  a  man  is  hardly  sufficient  reason 
for  marrying  him.  Would  you  choose  a  residence 
simply  because  there  didn't  happen  to  be  a  coalpit 
under  the  drawing-room,  or  a  railway  running 
through  the  gardens  ?  " 

But  Lord  Stonebridge  was  not  to  be  put  off. 
"  Perhaps  I  am  too  old  and  stiff  to  make  love  easily 
enough  to  please  you  ?  " 

"  No ;  the  man  who  makes  love  easily  does  not 
make  it  at  all." 

"  Then  am  I  to  understand  that  you  persist  in 
saying  No?" 

"  I  persist  in  saying  a  most  emphatic  No." 

Now  Lord  Stonebridge  was  one  of  those  men 
who  confine  their  common  sense  to  their  love  affairs 


THE   PINK   DIAMOND.  m 

and  their  sentiment  to  their  business  transactions. 
In  his  youth  he  had  been,  of  course,  different;  but 
at  this  tide  in  his  affairs  he  was  most  practical  with 
regard  to  all  matters  pertaining  to  the  affections, 
while  in  questions  of  private  finance  or  public  legisla- 
tion he  was  as  romantic  as  any  schoolgirl.  He  would 
show  a  sensitiveness  of  perception  and  a  refinement 
of  touch  in  dealing  with  a  County  Council,  which  he 
would  never  have  dreamed  of  wasting  upon  any  mere 
woman ;  and  once,  when  he  inadvertently  interfered 
with  a  right-of-way  across  his  estate,  and  agitating 
ratepayers  had  written  letters  to  the  local  papers 
about  it,  his  heart  was  much  nearer  to  the  breaking 
point  than  it  ever  had  been  in  the  days  when  Evelyn 
Murray  reigned  therein.  Unfortunately  for  women 
— and  fortunately  for  County  Councils — this  type  of 
man  is  not  rare  in  England. 

After  a  moment's  silence  his  lordship  remarked : 
"  I  suppose  this  will  make  no  difference  to  our  friend- 
ship." 

"  I  hope  not,"  replied  Elfrida  cordially. 

"  And  will  you  continue  to  be  friends  with  me, 
even  if  you  marry  another  man  ?  "  he  persisted. 

"  That  will  depend  on  the  Other  Man." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  if  you  were  married 
you  would  leave  off  writing  to  me  and  letting  me 
come  and  see  you  ?  " 

"  Again  I  must  refer  you  to  the  Other  Man." 

"  But,  my  dear  Miss  Harland,  that  is  absurd.  It 
would  be  ridiculous  for  any  man  to  make  an  objec- 
tion to  a  friendship  of  such  long  standing  as  ours." 

"  Of  course  it  would ;  but  I  shall  do  what  the 
Other  Man  wants,  even  when  it  is  ridiculous ;  that  is 
what  will  make  life  so  delightful  to  the  Other  Man." 

And  Lord  Stonebridge  had  to  be  content  with 


112  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

this.  Miss  Harland  also  was  content,  not  knowing 
that  the  Other  Man  had  even  then  left  London,  and 
was  on  his  way  to  Silverhampton,  a  manufactur- 
ing town  in  the  Midlands,  to  visit  an  old  maiden 
aunt  of  his  mother's  who  lived  there.  He  was  do- 
ing all  he  could  to  make  the  time  pass  quickly  be- 
tween the  Christmas  and  the  Easter  holidays,  for  that 
intervening  space  was  a  vacuum  of  the  kind  which 
nature,  and  especially  human  nature,  abhors ;  as 
everybody  can  understand  who  has  learnt  that  winter 
and  summer,  spring  and  autumn,  do  not  depend  upon 
any  fixed  arrangement  between  the  sun  and  the  earth, 
as  scientists  ignorantly  imagine,  but  upon  the  coming 
and  going  of  one  particular  person.  And  as  this  par- 
ticular person  is  a  different  one  in  each  particular  in- 
stance, all  the  world's  summers  and  winters  are  not 
contemporaneous ;  as  is  shown  in  the  case  of  Eng- 
land and  Australia,  for  example,  and  in  innumerable 
others  not  so  far  apart. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

SILVERHAMPTON. 

"You  never  would  turn  your  eyes  to  the  ground 

From  the  heaven-sent  vision  they  once  had  seen  ; 
So  ready  and  waiting  will  you  be  found 

When  the  angels  bring  you  your  might-have-been." 

IN  the  very  middle  of  the  Midlands  there  is  a 
manufacturing  town  situated  on  the  crest  of  a  hill  and 
crowned  by  a  beautiful  old  church.  In  the  church- 
yard stands  a  strange  pillar,  the  origin  whereof  is 
lost  in  antiquity — it  may  be  the  shaft  of  an  early 
Christian  cross,  or  it  may  be  the  remains  of  a  Druid- 
ical  temple;  and  just  outside  the  lych-gates  is  the 
King's  Square,  with  its  wide  pavements  and  quaint 
old  shops — shops  which  have  remained  in  the  same 
families  of  worthy  burgesses  from  generation  to  gen- 
eration. The  streets  slope  away  from  the  square, 
and  gradually  die  away  into  the  country,  which  is 
bounded  by  a  distant  rim  of  low  blue  hills.  Such  is 
the  town  of  Silverhampton. 

The  staple  commodity  of  the  citizens  of  this  place 
is  iron,  which  they  manufacture  and  buy  and  sell; 
and  the  iron  gets  into  their  blood,  and  makes  strong 
men  of  them.  Sometimes  it  happens  that  the  iron 
turns  into  gold,  which  is  good  ;  but  the  danger  is  that 
this  may  get  into  their  blood  too,  and  so  cause  them 


U4  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

to  lose  their  sense  of  perspective  in  this  world,  and 
their  view  of  the  next  altogether. 

If  from  this  town  a  traveller  walks  towards  the 
sun-rising,  he  will  soon  find  himself  in  a  very  Inferno 
of  both  blazing  and  burnt-out  blast-furnaces,  deep 
dark  pits,  and  weird  heaps  of  cooling  slag  which  look 
like  the  remains  of  some  giant  oyster  feast ;  but  if  he 
turns  his  steps  Westward-ho,  he  will  come  to  a  de- 
lightsome land  of  meadows  and  orchards  and  elm- 
studded  parks,  and  pretty  villages  clustering  round 
square-towered  churches.  He  will  find  no  majes- 
tic mountains,  no  rushing  rivers ;  but  little  brown 
streams,  which  creep  singing  through  the  fields,  and 
mossy  banks  carpeted  with  primroses  and  bluebells 
in  their  season.  In  the  spring  a  snowstorm  of  dam- 
son-blossom covers  the  country-side ;  and  in  the 
summer  the  hedges  are  festooned  first  with  white 
may,  and  then  with  pink  dog-roses.  There  are 
straight  white  roads  and  narrow  winding  lanes,  all 
leading  to  pleasant  places ;  and  the  rose-campions 
and  dandelions  grow  on  either  side  of  the  highways 
and  the  byways,  so  that  these  have  red  and  gold  edges 
like  hymn-books.  The  hymns  that  are  sung  there  by 
the  larks  and  the  thrushes  and  the  cuckoos  are  the 
sweetest  in  the  world.  There  is  less  rain  there  than 
in  most  English  towns,  and  the  sea  is  as  far  off  as  it 
can  go  from  dwellers  on  this  island ;  but  the  east 
wind  makes  itself  thoroughly  at  home  in  Silverhamp- 
ton,  and  gives  health  and  strength  to  the  natives, 
while  he  cuts  the  throats  of  all  the  strangers  within 
their  gates. 

People  who  have  never  been  there  think  scorn  of 
it,  and  call  it  the  Black  Country ;  but  Camilla  Des- 
mond loved  every  stone  of  the  place,  and  called  it 
home. 


SILVERHAMPTON.  !  x  5 

When  Jack  Le  Mesurier  went  down  to  stay  at 
Silverhampton,  Miss  Desmond,  his  mother's  aunt, 
was  a  very  old  lady.  She  had  been  a  beauty  in  her 
day,  though  that  day  had  long  since  gone  by ;  and 
she  still  ranked  as  a  queen  in  Silverhampton.  She 
knew  exactly  who  was  who,  a  branch  of  knowledge 
never  completely  mastered  by  any  one  who  has  not 
been  born  and  bred  in  a  place,  her  mind  being  an 
infallible  table  of  precedence  of  the  inhabitants  of  her 
native  town. 

Some  of  her  neighbours  raised  themselves  by  their 
own  exertions  to  rank  and  fortune,  and  still  contin- 
ued to  identify  themselves  with  the  town  which  had 
made  them  what  they  were,  and  endeavoured  thus  to 
show  their  gratitude  to  it ;  these  Miss  Desmond  in- 
vited to  the  most  select  of  her  always  select  parties, 
and  enjoyed  their  triumph  as  if  it  were  her  own. 
Others  of  her  neighbours  also  raised  themselves  to 
the  occupation  of  high  places,  and  then  so  completely 
turned  their  backs  upon  Silverhampton  and  the  com- 
merce which  had  enriched  them,  that  they  could 
hardly  have  found  the  place  on  the  map  if  they  had 
been  asked  to  do  so :  at  these  Miss  Camilla  laughed 
with  delicate  humour  and  fine  scorn. 

"  The  art  of  forgetting,"  she  said,  "  is  a  vulgar  ac- 
complishment. Well-bred  people  remember  every- 
thing and  are  ashamed  of  nothing." 

A  friend  was  once  talking  to  her  about  a  man  of 
great  wealth  and  snobbish  proclivities,  and  about  all 
the  luxuries  which  he  could  afford.  "  My  dear,"  she 
rejoined,  "  no  man  is  rich  enough  to  please  me  who 
cannot  afford  to  tell  the  truth." 

Camilla  Desmond  lived  alone  in  a  square,  red- 
brick house,  which  was  called  the  Deanery,  in  mem- 
ory of  the  time  when  Silverhampton  boasted  a  Dean 


Il6  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

of  its  own,  and  provided  him  with  a  local  habi- 
tation. This  house  was  panelled  throughout  with 
black  oak,  and  boasted  one  of  the  finest  carved  stair- 
cases in  the  county.  Her  father,  as  his  father  before 
him,  had  been  a  solicitor  of  the  old  school,  a  very 
stately  and  handsome  man,  who  knew  all  the  county 
families  round  about,  and  likewise  all  their  secrets ; 
and  his  beautiful  daughter  was  often  invited  to  ac- 
company him  when  he  visited  the  various  noblemen 
and  gentry  in  the  neighbourhood.  So  Camilla  knew 
the  county  as  well  as  the  town,  and  could  hold  her 
own  with  anybody. 

When  Jack  arrived  at  Silverhampton,  Miss  Des- 
mond gave  him  a  warm  welcome  for  his  mother's 
sake ;  and,  moreover,  she  was  the  type  of  woman  who 
always  thinks  it  worth  while  to  make  herself  attrac- 
tive to  a  man,  be  the  man  only  a  great-nephew. 
There  is  a  story  told  of  a  celebrated  beauty  who, 
when  she  was  over  eighty,  was  asked  at  what  age  a 
woman  leaves  off  flirting.  "  I  cannot  tell  you,"  an- 
swered the  ex-toast,  "  you  must  ask  somebody  older 
than  I  am."  Though  Miss  Camilla  had  only  flirted 
in  a  regal  style,  she  had  never  left  off  flirting  (who 
ever  does  that  has  once  begun  it  ?) ;  so  now,  in  a 
dignified  and  grandmotherly  way,  she  flirted  with 
Jack.  And  she  did  it  with  such  success,  being  a  past- 
mistress  in  the  art,  that  Jack  fell  in  love  with  her  at 
once,  and  confided  to  her  the  story  of  his  love  for 
Ethel  Harland,  and  also  the  unpleasant  and  merce- 
nary suggestions  made  by  Sir  Roger  Le  Mesurier. 

Miss  Camilla  was  intensely  interested  in  the  whole 
romance.  What  woman,  worthy  of  the  name,  is  not 
intensely  interested  in  a  love-story?  A  woman  who 
is  not  interested  in  a  love-story  is  almost  as  bad  as  a 
woman  who  is  not  fond  of  children,  and  they  are  both 


SILVERHAMPTON.  nj 

as  bad  as  dragons  and  dodos,  and  quite  as  fictitious ; 
for,  in  spite  of  their  protestations  to  the  contrary, 
such  creatures  do  not  really  exist.  They  only  pre- 
tend that  they  do.  Sometimes  men  are  stupid  enough 
to  be  taken  in  by  this  make-believe,  and  to  dislike 
them  accordingly ;  but  their  sister-women  are  never 
so  blind. 

When  Jack  had  finished  his  tale,  Miss  Desmond 
said :  "  My  dear,  as  you  have  done  me  the  honour 
to  tell  me  your  love-story,  I  in  return  will  tell  you 
mine.  Though  the  difference  between  the  two  is  the 
difference  of  half  a  century,  one  may  yet  throw  some 
light  for  the  future  guidance  of  the  other." 

"  Thank  you,"  replied  Jack.  They  were  sitting 
in  the  oak-panelled  drawing-room,  and  had  drawn 
their  chairs  close  to  the  fire,  which  was  made  up  of 
such  glowing  coal  as  can  only  be  found  in  Mershire ; 
for  it  was  early  spring,  and  the  east  wind  was  holding 
his  usual  Mid-Lent  carnival  in  Silverhampton. 

"  It  is  rather  a  long  story,  but  I  think  it  will  inter- 
est you,  though  Fate  has  never  written  Finis  and  made 
it  end  happily,  as  happens  to  most  women's  stories. 
But  remember,  Jack,  that  if  a  story  does  not  end  hap- 
pily, it  does  not  end  at  all :  Fate  leaves  off  meddling 
with  it,  and  Heaven  writes,  To  be  continued,"  said  Miss 
Desmond,  drawing  herself  up  in  her  stiff  armchair. 
She  was  one  of  the  women  who  never  lolled  or 
leaned  back ;  those  with  very  handsome  figures  sel- 
dom do. 

"  I  was  considered  a  beauty  in  my  young  days," 
she  continued,  "  and  had  a  long  list  of  lovers ;  but 
I  never  cared  for  any  of  them  save  one — a  pupil  in 
my  father's  office.  He  was  poor  and  of  obscure  pa- 
rentage, but  nevertheless  a  young  man  of  extraordi- 
nary parts.  His  name  was  George  Harland." 


Ilg  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

Jack  uttered  an  exclamation  of  surprise,  and  felt, 
as  we  all  sometimes  feel,  how  small  the  world  is  and 
how  very  round. 

"  My  people  opposed  the  union  with  extreme  se- 
verity," Miss  Camilla  went  on ;  "  but  how  could  I 
help  loving  the  finest  man — taking  him  all  round — 
that  1  had  ever  seen  ?  And,  having  once  loved  him, 
how  could  I,  being  but  an  ordinary  woman,  ever  stop 
loving  him  this  side  the  grave,  whatever  he  might 
do  or  leave  undone?  A  woman's  heart  should  en- 
throne her  lover  as  a  king — not  take  him  in  as  a 
lodger;  and  we  do  not  give  monarchs  notice  to 
quit  if  they  do  not  always  happen  to  obey  us.  At 
least  they  did  not  in  my  young  days,  though  in  these 
democratic  times  I  suppose  they  would ;  but  the 
world  was  not  democratic,  I  am  thankful  to  say, 
when  I  was  a  girl.  Democracy  came  in  with 
chignons  and  steam-engines,  after  my  youth  was 
over." 

Jack  smiled,  but  he  did  not  speak.  This  old- 
world  lady  in  her  old-world  room  had  a  strangely 
soothing  effect  upon  him ;  and  her  sweet,  droning 
voice  acted  like  a  spell  which  he  was  afraid  to  break. 
Besides,  Miss  Camilla  did  not  require  him  to  make 
any  passing  comments  on  her  story,  as  a  more  self- 
conscious  woman  would  have  done.  She  had  been 
admired  all  her  life ;  and  women  who  are  accus- 
tomed to  admiration  do  not  seek  encouragement — 
they  merely  demand  the  attention  which  they  are 
bound  to  receive. 

Miss  Desmond  went  on  dreamily,  her  eyes  on  the 
fire  and  her  thoughts  in  the  past :  "  In  time  I  over- 
came all  the  opposition  to  which  I  was  subjected, 
and  became  engaged  to  George  Harland.  I  had  no 
doubt  from  the  very  first  that  he  would  make  a  name 


SILVERHAMPTON.  IIO, 

for  himself.  And  it  would  have  been  the  same  to  me 
if  he  had  not.  I  only  cared  to  be  with  him ;  whether 
it  should  be  in  fame  or  in  obscurity — in  opulence  or 
in  poverty — was  a  consideration  which  did  not  enter 
into  my  counsels.  But  it  happened  that  George  jus- 
tified my  faith  in  his  powers.  After  all,  the  people 
who  love  us  best  know  us  best,  for  they  alone  see  the 
perfect  statue  which  is  hidden  in  the  shapeless  block 
of  our  unformed  character." 

"  You  are  quite  right  there." 

"  In  the  handsome  boy  sitting  at  a  desk  in  my 
father's  office  I  recognised  the  future  Lord  Chancel- 
lor. But  it  took  the  world  over  forty  years  to  see 
as  much  as  that." 

"  Naturally,"  agreed  Jack ;  "  the  world  is  neither 
quick  nor  deep  in  its  perceptions." 

"  In  those  days  it  was  not  as  easy  as  it  is  now  to 
step  from  one  branch  of  the  legal  profession  to  the 
other ;  but  I  was  content  to  wait  for  George,  how- 
ever long  it  might  be.  I  am  one  of  the  old-fashioned 
people  who  cannot  approve  of  the  modern  custom  of 
marrying  late  in  life  for  a  home,  as  if  marriage  were 
nothing  but  a  sort  of  old  age  pension  ;  it  seems  to  me 
as  bad  as  putting  off  all  preparation  for  the  next 
world  till  this  world  has  thrown  us  on  one  side  as 
useless.  In  fact,  it  is  worse  as  far  as  we  are  con- 
cerned ;  for  the  love  of  God  can  stand  any  strain,  but 
the  love  of  man  cannot." 

Jack  nodded. 

"  But  I  had  no  scruples  on  this  score  as  far  as  it 
affected  George  Harland ;  for  I  had  loved  him  in  the 
hey-day  of  my  youth,  as  I  love  him  now,  when  he  is 
dead  of  old  age  and  I  ought  to  be.  There  is  only  one 
real  love  in  a  life,  and  to  me  there  never  was  any 
man  in  the  world  except  George." 


120  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  Do  you  really  believe  that  everybody  has  only 
one  love,  Aunt  Camilla  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  do,  my  dear,  just  as  I  believe  that 
everybody  has  only  one  pair  of  eyes  and  hands  and 
feet.  If  they  have  more  they  have  only  artificial 
ones." 

Jack  puffed  at  his  pipe  thoughtfully.  Miss  Des- 
mond had  been  all  her  life  too  much  of  a  man's 
woman  not  to  let  a  man  smoke  when  and  where  he 
wanted  to.  It  was  of  much  more  consequence  to  her 
that  men  should  find  her  attractive  than  that  her 
rooms  should  be  free  from  the  odour  of  tobacco ;  in 
her  opinion  the  absence  of  tobacco  smoke  did  not 
make  up  for  the  absence  of  masculine  admiration — 
and  the  two  are  generally  inseparable. 

After  a  moment's  silence  the  old  lady  went  on : 

"  As  you  know,  George  Harland  rose  to  the  top 
of  the  tree  in  his  profession ;  he  went  into  Parlia- 
ment, and  became  Attorney-General,  and  finally  Lord 
Chancellor.  But  long  before  this  he  had  discovered 
that  his  career  would  be  spoiled  by  a  union  with  a 
country  solicitor's  daughter ;  so  he  married  the 
daughter  of  a  peer  instead." 

"  Then  he  was  a  cad,"  exclaimed  Jack  angrily ; 
"  an  out-and-out  cad  !  " 

"  My  dear,  I  cannot  allow  any  one  to  speak  dis- 
respectfully of  Lord  Harland  in  my  presence,"  re- 
plied Miss  Camilla  severely ;  "  he  will  always  be  the 
one  man  in  all  the  world  to  me,  and  there  is  no  doubt 
he  was  the  greatest  lawyer  of  his  day.  If  a  woman 
has  the  honour  of  calling  a  famous  man  her  lover, 
she  must  pay  the  price  for  such  a  distinction ;  it  is 
childish  to  fall  in  love  with  a  king  and  expect  him  to 
be  as  amenable  as  a  curate !  " 

"  Still  it  was  rather  rough  on  you,  Aunt  Camilla." 


SILVERHAMPTON.  I2i 

"  That  was  not  what  really  mattered ;  it  does  not 
signify  so  very  much  after  all — when  your  life  is  over, 
as  mine  is — whether  you  have  been  a  happy  wife  or 
a  desolate  old  maid.  What  matters  to  you  then  is 
whether  you  have  chosen  the  best  robe  and  the  feast, 
or  whether  you  have  selected  the  husks  and  enjoyed 
them,  and  thus  made  yourself  unfit  for  anything 
higher." 

"  I  see,"  murmured  Jack. 

"  I  did  not  grieve  so  much  on  my  own  account,  as 
one  solitary  woman's  life  is  not  such  a  very  impor- 
tant item  in  the  world's  history.  But  it  troubled  me 
to  find  that  poor  George  had  so  little  understanding 
of  the  true  value  of  things,  and  so  little  sense  of  pro- 
portion, that  he  deliberately  chose  the  lower  thing 
and  let  the  higher  go.  Not  that  I  wish  to  infer  that 
the  late  Lady  Harland  was  in  any  way  my  inferior ; 
but  I  happened  to  be  the  woman  he  loved,  and  she 
was  not.*' 

"  Did  you  ever  see  him  again  ?  "  asked  Jack  after 
a  moment's  pause. 

"  Yes ;  after  his  wife's  death,  when  he  and  I  were 
both  very  old  people,  he  came  to  see  me,  and  told 
me  what  a  mistake  it  had  all  been.  '  Camilla,'  he 
said,  '  I  have  never  loved  any  woman  but  you,  and 
when  I  gave  up  you  I  gave  up  happiness  and  all  that 
makes  life  worth  living.  If  I  had  my  time  over  again 
I  should  act  very  differently,  but  now  it  is  too  late.'  " 

"  And  what  did  you  say?  " 

"  I  said,  '  George,  perhaps  you  are  going  to  have 
your  time  over  again,  and  if  so,  never  mind  about 
me ;  but  just  remember  that  if  you  again  choose  the 
second-best  and  let  the  best  go  by,  you  will  be  the 
poorer  for  your  choice  all  through  the  next  life  as  you 
have  been  all  through  this.'  You  see,  Jack,  if  God 
9 


122  A   DOUBLE    THREAD. 

give  us  our  choice,  and  we  choose  foolishly  and  sin 
against  wisdom,  we  cannot  expect  Him  to  make  up 
the  difference  to  us.  Can  we  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  not,"  answered  Jack ;  "  yet,  as  a  mat- 
ter of  fact,  we  generally  do." 

The  next  day  Miss  Desmond  took  her  great- 
nephew  all  over  the  "  Old  Church,"  as  it  is  called  to 
distinguish  it  from  all  the  other  and  newer  churches 
of  the  town.  She  loved  every  detail  of  the  grand  old 
edifice,  down  from  the  beautiful  apse  at  the  east  end 
to  the  quaintly  hideous  stone  creature  keeping  watch 
at  the  foot  of  the  pulpit  steps.  The  frescoes  that 
lined  the  chancel  were  newer  than  these,  were  newer 
even  than  Miss  Camilla  herself ;  but  to  her  they  were 
of  the  deepest  interest,  as  they  had  been  painted  from 
time  to  time  in  memory  of  the  departed  friends  of 
her  early  days,  and  to  look  at  them  was  like  looking 
at  faded  portraits  or  at  packets  of  old  letters.  In  fact, 
the  Old  Church  seemed  even  more  home  to  her  than 
did  the  Deanery,  and  she  loved  it  even  better. 

In  the  afternoon  she  and  Jack  drove  to  the  pretty 
village  of  Tetleigh,  about  two  miles  west  of  Silver- 
hampton.  They  passed  by  rows  of  houses  and  streets 
of  villas,  where  there  had  been  nothing  but  apple- 
orchards  when  Miss  Camilla  was  a  girl ;  and  the  town 
did  not  actually  come  to  a  full-stop  till  they  crossed 
the  canal,  which  lay  like  a  river  at  the  foot  of  the  hill. 

"  It  was  too  lonely  for  me  to  walk  here  by  myself 
when  I  was  young,"  the  old  lady  said  ;  "  yet  see  how 
crowded  and  busy  it  is  now !  But  George  used  to 
bring  me  sometimes,  and  then  we  went  back  by  the 
canal,  and  gathered  the  violets  that  grew  wild  on  the 
banks.  They  were  the  finest  violets  that  I  have  ever 
seen.  I  don't  know  how  it  is,  but  violets  are  not  so 
sweet  now  as  they  were  then ;  perhaps  it  is  because 


SILVERHAMPTON.  123 

there  are  more  of  them  and  so  they  are  of  an  inferior 
quality.  Have  you  ever  noticed  it,  Jack  ?  " 

But  Jack  could  not  say  that  he  had. 

When  they  reached  Tetleigh  Miss  Camilla  in- 
sisted on  Jack's  getting  out  of  the  carriage  and  see- 
ing the  beautiful  old  church  there,  as  old,  if  not  older, 
than  the  one  in  Silverhampton,  though  Jack  was  lazy 
and  would  fain  have  stayed  where  he  was.  And  then 
she  marched  him  through  one  of  the  most  pictur- 
esque churchyards  in  Mershire,  and  showed  him  a 
very,  very  ancient  monument  representing  a  woman 
without  arms  or  legs,  which  was  one  of  the  curiosities 
of  the  neighbourhood. 

"  The  story  runs,"  she  exclaimed,  "  that  this 
woman  sewed  on  a  Sunday ;  and  at  last  her  parish 
priest  heard  of  it,  and  forbade  her  to  do  so  any  more." 

"  But  how  could  she  sew  without  arms?  "  asked 
Jack  pertinently. 

"  Oh !  she  had  her  arms  all  right  then.  She 
promised  the  priest  that  she  would  not  sew  on  a  Sun- 
day any  more,  and  he  went  away.  But  the  very  next 
Sunday  she  drew  a  curtain  over  the  window,  so  that 
no  one  could  see  her,  and  went  on  sewing  as  usual. 
The  priest  knew  that  she  had  disobeyed  him,  and  he 
went  over  to  her  again ;  but  she  swore  a  great  oath 
that  she  had  not,  and  she  uttered  a  blasphemous 
prayer  that  her  arms  and  legs  might  drop  off  if  she 
ever  sewed  on  a  Sunday  again." 

"  And  then  I  suppose  the  parson  let  her  alone," 
said  Jack. 

Miss  Camilla  stopped  in  her  walk  along  the  ave- 
nue of  lime-trees  and  said  solemnly :  "  In  spite  of 
the  priest's  continued  warnings  the  woman  continued 
to  sew  on  a  Sunday,  and  so  her  arms  and  legs 
dropped  off  as  she  had  said." 


124  •  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  Poor  soul,  she  caught  it,  and  no  mistake,  for 
disobeying  the  parson  !  " 

Miss  Desmond  was  silent  for  awhile,  as  they  re- 
turned to  the  carriage  and  drove  up  the  steep  way  cut 
through  the  solid  red  rock,  and  then  across  the 
breezy  village  green  and  along  the  old  coach-road 
that  leads  from  the  Midlands  to  Holyhead ;  then  she 
said  suddenly :  "  She  was  not  punished  for  '  disobey- 
ing the  parson/  as  you  call  it,  Jack.  She  was  pun- 
ished because  she  preferred  to  sit  at  home  and  sew, 
to  going  to  the  House  of  the  Lord.  That  is  to  say, 
she  cared  more  for  dress  and  money  and  all  such 
vanities,  than  for  the  deeper  and  the  higher  things  of 
life.  Therefore  she  lost  her  power." 

Jack  nodded.  "  That  is  an  ingenious  rendering 
of  the  story." 

"  I  think  that  is  the  lesson  we  are  meant  to  learn 
from  it.  If  we  choose  to  study  what  is  base  rather 
than  what  is  high,  if  we  set  our  affections  on  vanity, 
and  heed  not  the  voice  of  wisdom,  our  souls  will  lose 
their  arms  and  their  feet,  and  will  be  able  neither  to 
grasp  the  truth  on  earth  nor  to  walk  in  the  way 
which  leads  to  heaven." 

"  I  believe  you  are  right,"  said  Jack,  and  his  eyes 
grew  wistful  as  he  looked  across  the  green  fields  and 
the  blue  hills  to  the  sunset. 

Miss  Camilla  laid  her  delicately  gloved  hand  upon 
his  arm.  "  Oh !  my  dear,"  she  said  in  her  pathetic 
voice,  "  marry  in  obedience  to  your  own  heart,  and 
not  in  obedience  to  the  world.  And  may  the  woman 
you  love  be  worthy  of  you,  and  you  of  her !  " 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE    USES    OF    GOSSIP. 

"With  talk  her  tasks  beguiling, 

She  blackened  people's  names  ; 
Nor  dreamed  that  such  reviling 

Annulled  her  saintly  claims, 
And  turned  to  naught  the  good  she  wrought 

(According  to  Saint  James)." 

IT  is  impossible  to  exaggerate  the  evil  that  is 
caused  by  the  style  of  conversation  commonly  called 
gossip ;  but  it  is  very  easy  to  misunderstand  the  mo- 
tives of  the  same.  When  A  insinuates  that  B  has 
murdered  his  mother-in-law  or  taken  too  much  to 
drink,  A  is  not  impelled  by  any  hatred  for  B,  or  any 
intention  to  injure  him ;  but  merely  by  a  craving  for 
excitement,  and  a  desire  to  say  something  which  shall 
rivet  the  attention  of  C  and  so  make  A  into  a  social 
success.  That  the  path  to  conversational  glory  lies 
over  the  dead  body  of  B's  reputation  is  a  considera- 
tion which  does  not  enter  into  A's  calculations ;  but 
the  results  are  the  same  as  if  it  did. 

Now  it  happened,  after  Ethel  Harland  left  Sunny- 
dale,  that  time  hung  heavy  on  the  hands  and  on  the 
tongues  of  the  inhabitants  of  that  place.  For  one 
thing,  the  weather  was  too  bad  for  any  one  to  spend 
much  time  out  of  doors;  and  all  evil  things,  from 

125 


126  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

forced  rhubarb  upwards,  thrive  better  under  cover 
than  in  the  open  air.  Then  Lent  began  rather  early, 
and  the  good  people  of  Sunnydale  denied  themselves 
their  accustomed  little  gaieties — which  was  good ;  but 
they  made  up  for  this  lack  by  indulging  in  unusually 
severe  comments  on  their  neighbours  and  ensuring 
some  pleasurable  excitement  in  that  way — which  was 
not  good  at  all ;  and,  one  would  imagine,  entirely 
obviated  any  spiritual  advantage  arising  from  their 
self-denial. 

Every  Friday  afternoon  a  sewing-party  was  held 
in  Sunnydale  for  the  purpose  of  making  garments 
for  the  poor.  Much  practical  good  was  wrought  in 
this  way;  and  it  was  a  thousand  pities  that  much 
evil  was  wrought  at  the  same  time  by  those  unruly 
members  which  no  man  can  tame. 

One  Lenten  Friday,  immediately  after  the  open- 
ing prayer,  Mrs.  Brown  began : 

"  It  is  a  sad  thing  about  young  Mr.  Adams,  a  very 
sad  thing !  " 

"  Dear  me,  and  what  is  that,  Mrs.  Brown  ?  "  asked 
Mrs.  Cottle,  threading  her  needle  with  unction. 

But  Mrs.  Brown,  who  happened  to  be  the  hostess 
at  this  particular  sewing-party,  was  not  going  to 
waste  her  delicate  morsels  of  mental  nutriment  by 
giving  them  away  too  soon ;  so  she  shook  her  head 
in  her  own  curiosity-arousing  manner :  "  I  hardly 
like  to  repeat  it,  I  am  sure,  because  after  all  it  may 
not  be  true.  Such  very  false  reports  do  get  spread 
about ;  and,  as  I  have  often  remarked,  I  cannot  im- 
agine how." 

"  That  is  true,"  sighed  Mrs.  Cottle :  "  if  people 
would  only  attend  to  their  own  shortcomings  and 
leave  those  of  their  neighbours  alone,  it  would  be  bet- 
ter for  all  parties.  I  made  this  very  remark  yesterday 


THE   USES  OF   GOSSIP. 


127 


to  Mrs.  Crowther,  who  was  speaking,  as  I  think  most 
uncharitably,  of  the  extravagance  at  the  hall.  We 
all  know  what  a  miser  Mrs.  Crowther  is  ;  she  actually 
pays  her  cook  only  fifteen  pounds  a  year,  and  expects 
the  poor  girl  to  supply  herself  with  beer  out  of  that. 
And  to  hear  her  criticising  Lady  Sunnydale's  ex- 
travagance was  above  a  joke." 

"  Well,  to  be  sure !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Brown : 
"  only  fifteen  pounds  a  year  and  to  find  her  own  beer. 
It  is  scandalous  !  " 

"  So  I  think.  In  fact  the  Crowthers'  household 
is  entirely  on  a  wrong  basis,  in  my  opinion.  I  am 
not  sure  that  it  is  entirely  meanness  on  Mrs.  Crow- 
ther's  part ;  I  sometimes  think  that  Mr.  Crowther's 
business  affairs  are  not  altogether  satisfactory,  and 
that  we  shall  hear  of  a  smash  there  before  very 
long." 

The  puce  ribbons  in  Mrs.  Brown's  cap  fairly 
danced  with  delight.  "  You  don't  say  so !  Well, 
that  is  a  bit  of  news !  " 

"  I  know  nothing  for  certain,"  added  Mrs.  Cottle 
cautiously ;  "  please  remember  that.  »But  I  have  got 
a  pair  of  eyes  in  my  head,  and  when  I  see  economy 
which  I  do  not  think  justifiable  I  conclude  there  is 
some  disgraceful  secret  in  the  background." 

"  And  you  are  wise,"  agreed  the  hostess  :  "  there 
is  no  smoke  without  fire ;  mark  my  words." 

Mrs.  Brown  was  a  connoisseur  in  smoke :  she 
spent  her  life  sniffing  about  in  the  hope  of  finding 
some;  and  when  she  did  come  across  a  whiff,  she 
constructed  a  whole  blast-furnace  on  the  strength  of 
it,  and  joyfully  warmed  her  hands  at  the  same. 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Brown,  can  you  tell  me  how  to  shape 
this  band  ?  "  said  little  Miss  Barber,  joining  the  other 
two :  "  you  are  so  clever  always  with  your  fingers." 


128  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  Certainly,  certainly ;  but  at  your  age  you  ought 
to  be  able  to  shape  a  band  yourself,  Maria  Barber." 

"  I  know  I  ought ;  but  this  is  a  new  pattern,  and 
I  felt  that  you  would  pick  it  up  so  much  more  quickly 
and  correctly  than  I  could." 

"  I  wonder  where  the  vicar's  wife  is  ?  "  remarked 
Mrs.  Brown  severely.  "  She  ought  to  be  here." 

"  She  has  gone  to  see  old  Jane  Lowe  instead,"  re- 
plied Miss  Barber :  "  I  met  her  on  my  way  here,  and 
she  told  me  that  Jane  was  very  ill  and  kept  asking  for 
her ;  so  she  felt  her  place  was  at  Jane's  bedside  rather 
than  here." 

"  Well,  I  don't  agree  with  her,"  said  Mrs.  Brown, 
pursing  up  her  mouth :  "  I  think  a  public  duty  should 
always  come  before  a  private  one ;  and  a  sewing- 
party  is  a  more  important  matter,  in  my  humble 
judgment,  than  the  whim  of  a  tiresome,  bedridden 
old  woman." 

"  But  Jane  Lowe  is  really  very  ill,"  suggested 
Maria  timidly ;  "  I  hear  she  cannot  last  many  days." 

Mrs.  Brown  fairly  glared.  "  That  is  just  like 
you,  Maria ;  always  setting  up  your  opinion  above 
that  of  your  betters,  and  taking  the  part  of  them  that 
are  in  the  wrong !  " 

Little  Miss  Barber  was  no  heroine ;  she  at  once 
threw  the  vicar's  wife  to  the  wolves. 

"  Not  at  all,  not  at  all,  dear  Mrs.  Brown  ;  I  blame 
Mrs.  Bailey  as  much  as  you  do  for  any  neglect  of 
duty ;  and,  as  you  say,  her  duty  this  afternoon  was  to 
come  here." 

The  offended  goddess  was  appeased.  "  Of  course 
it  was ;  and  my  experience  is  that  the  fulfilment  of 
duty  is  its  own  reward.  I  assure  you,  I  feel  a  perfect 
glow  of  happiness  when  the  day  is  over  and  I  know 
that  I  have  devoted  three  good  hours  of  it  to  work- 


THE   USES  OF  GOSSIP. 


I29 


ing  for  the  poor ;  for  there  is  no  happiness  equal  to 
the  approval  of  one's  own  conscience.  But  I  have 
not  yet  told  you  about  Mr.  Adams.  Have  you  heard 
any  rumours  regarding  him,  Maria  ?  " 

"  No,  none  at  all,"  replied  Miss  Barber,  receiving 
her  band,  in  the  spirit  of  meekness,  at  Mrs.  Brown's 
hands.  "  What  is  it,  dear  Mrs.  Brown  ?  Do  tell  us." 

"  Yes,  do,"  urged  Mrs.  Cottle ;  "  you  can  trust 
us  that  it  shall  go  no  further,  for  if  there  is  one  thing 
that  I  set  my  face  against  more  than  another,  it  is 
malicious  gossip." 

"  And  you  are  quite  right,"  said  the  hostess  ap- 
provingly. "  What  I  dislike  so  much  in  Mrs.  Crow- 
ther  is  her  love  of  gossip ;  you  never  see  her  without 
hearing  some  fresh  scandal  about  somebody ;  and 
how  a  God-fearing  woman,  as  she  professes  to  be, 
can  act  in  such  a  way,  passes  my  comprehension." 

"  And  mine,"  sighed  Mrs.  Cottle,  breaking  her 
thread  in  the  force  of  her  moral  disapprobation  of 
Mrs.  Crowther. 

"  It  was  she  who  told  me  about  Mr.  Adams," 
added  Mrs.  Brown.  "  She  said  she  had  heard,  on 
very  good  authority,  that  he  has  taken  to  drinking." 

"  Dear  me,  how  sad ! "  exclaimed  the  two  other 
ladies  in  unison. 

"  And  he  is  so  young,  too,"  added  Mrs.  Cottle ; 
"  that  makes  it  doubly  shocking." 

"  Nothing  but  religion  keeps  young  men 
straight,"  said  Mrs.  Brown  impersonally,  as  if  old 
ladies  could  get  on  perfectly  well  without  it ;  "  and 
when  I  heard  that  Mr.  Adams  read  novels  on  a  Sun- 
day, I  knew  what  to  expect." 

Mrs.  Brown's  Sabbaths  were  so  strictly  kept,  that 
the  day  was  generally  devoted  to  sleep  and  conversa- 
tion judiciously  blended;  and  if  now  and  then  the 


130 


A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 


sleep  degenerated  into  laziness  and  the  conversation 
into  evil-speaking,  who  was  to  blame?  If  one  has 
too  much  of  a  thing,  one  cannot  always  command  the 
quality ;  and  good  Mrs.  Brown  was  so  busy  keeping 
the  Fourth  Commandment  because  it  happened  to 
come  easy  to  her,  that  the  Ninth,  which,  on  the  con- 
trary, was  difficult,  slipped  out  of  her  hands  and  was 
broken  without  her  knowledge. 

"  Another  young  person  that  I  think  badly  of  is 
Ethel  Harland,"  continued  Mrs.  Brown.  "  I  don't 
say  much,  but  I  have  my  suspicions  of  that  girl." 

Mrs.  Cottle  and  Miss  Barber  were  so  much  en- 
grossed by  this  new  idea,  that  they  were  unable  to 
go  on  with  their  sewing,  so  laid  it  down  that  they 
might  listen  the  better.  Julia  Welford  also  joined 
the  group,  now  that  the  conversation  had  taken  this 
turn. 

"  She  behaved  abominably  with  that  young  Le 
Mesurier,"  said  Mrs.  Cottle.  "  I  only  hope  my  girls 
will  never  carry  on  with  a  young  man  like  that." 

A  hope  which  seemed,  to  any  one  who  had  set 
eyes  on  the  Miss  Cottles,  predestined  fpr  fulfilment. 

"  I  have  always  taught  my  dear  girls,"  continued 
the  proud  mother,  "  never  to  trifle  with  the  affections 
of  any  man,  as  I  regard  such  trifling  as  nothing  short 
of  a  sin ;  and  I  believe  that  they  have  always  obeyed 
me." 

This  excellent  woman's  confidence  in  her  daugh- 
ters was  not  misplaced. 

"  Men  are  such  fools,"  said  Julia,  tossing  her  head  ; 
"  they  never  can  see  that  a  girl  is  running  after  them." 

Wherein  Miss  Welford  was  guilty  of  an  injustice 
towards  masculine  discernment,  for  Jack  had  seen 
plainly  enough  that  she  was  running  after  him. 

"  Flirting  is  very  wrong   and   very   improper," 


THE   USES  OF   GOSSIP.  131 

agreed  Mrs.  Brown ;  "  but  it  was  not  that  that  I  was 
thinking  of  when  I  said  I  had  my  suspicions  about 
Ethel  Harland;  I  only  wish  it  was,  and  that  there 
was  nothing  worse  behind." 

Half-a-dozen  eyes  gleamed  with  joy.  What  a 
good  thing  it  was,  the  three  ladies  felt,  that  they  had 
denied  themselves  so  far  as  to  attend  the  sewing- 
party  !  Certainly  virtue  is  sometimes  its  own  reward. 

"  But  what  is  it  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Cottle ;  "  pray  tell 
us,  for  we  are  all  dying  to  hear." 

Mrs.  Brown's  puce  ribbons  shook  like  leaves  in 
a  whirlwind.  "  What  I  want  to  know  is,  how  does 
Ethel  Harland  earn  her  living?  Can  any  one  tell  me 
that?" 

"  I  thought  she  was  a  governess,"  said  Julia. 

"  You  thought — yes,  you  thought;  but  do  you 
know,  my  dear  ?  " 

"  No,  not  for  certain ;  but  I  always  concluded  that 
she  was." 

Mrs.  Brown  grew  more  mysterious  than  ever. 
"  Conclusions  are  very  dangerous  things  to  arrive  at 
— very  dangerous  things,  and  are  almost  always 
wrong,  into  the  bargain." 

"  Perhaps  she  is  a  companion,"  suggested  Miss 
Barber. 

Mrs.  Brown  sniffed  with  scorn.  "  A  companion, 
Maria ;  what  nonsense !  Do  you  suppose  that  any 
decent-minded  woman  would  have  a  gad-about  like 
that  for  a  companion  ?  " 

"  Then  what  is  she  ?  "  gasped  Mrs.  Cottle. 

"  I  took  the  trouble  to  ferret  the  matter  out,"  con- 
tinued Mrs.  Brown  with  conscious  pride,  as  if  other 
people's  business  were  "  the  proper  study  of  man- 
kind." Anyway,  she  was  a  proficient  in  the  study. 
"  I  set  little  traps  to  catch  her  and  her  grandmother 


132  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

in  general  conversation,  for  I  had  my  suspicions  from 
the  first  that  they  were  deceiving  me.  So  by  putting 
two  and  two  together  I  discovered  that  she  was  not 
a  governess  and  not  a  companion ;  and  now  the  ques- 
tion remains,  What  is  she  ?  " 

"  Dear  me,  dear  me !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Cottle,  in 
a  delightful  flutter.  "  Perhaps  she  serves  in  a  shop ; 
but  it  is,  as  you  say,  very  mysterious !  " 

"  And  where  there  is  mystery  there  is  disgrace," 
added  the  hostess.  "  When  people  make  a  secret  of 
things,  it  means  that  they  are  ashamed  of  them." 

By  this  time  even  Mrs.  Brown  herself  had  ceased 
from  her  sewing  and  was  engrossed  in  the  subject 
under  discussion. 

"  I  wonder  if  Ethel  Harland  is  an  actress,"  sug- 
gested Julia.  "  That  would  account  for  her  making 
a  mystery  of  her  profession." 

Miss  Welford  had  been  brought  up  to  believe  that 
Art  is  on  a  lower  social  scale  than  Commerce ;  she 
had  also  been  brought  up  to  believe  that  a  gentleman 
is  a  man  whose  income  is  in  four  figures.  The  Wei- 
fords'  faith  was  a  simple  one ;  and,  like  all  faiths,  was 
comfortable  in  proportion  to  its  simplicity. 

"  I  believe  you  are  right,"  agreed  Mrs.  Brown, 
"and  that  the  stage  is  the  profession  of  that  mis- 
guided young  person.  Her  mother  was  an  actress, 
you  know,  before  she  married." 

"  Then  there  is  no  doubt  that  the  daughter  is  fol- 
lowing in  the  mother's  footsteps,"  said  Mrs.  Cottle ; 
"  and  now  I  see  my  own  wisdom  in  forbidding  my 
girls  to  form  an  intimacy  with  Ethel  Harland.  Good- 
ness knows  what  harm  she  might  not  have  done 
them,  if  any  semblance  of  friendship  had  been  per- 
mitted." 

Maria  Barber  took  up  her  work  again,  and  went 


THE   USES  OF   GOSSIP. 


133 


on  with  it  mechanically ;  then  she  suddenly  re- 
marked :  "  I  remember  once  reading  a  story  of  a  girl 
who  would  never  tell  how  she  earned  her  living.  It 
was  a  very  interesting  story,  as  the  mystery  was  not 
disclosed  until  quite  the  end.  Then  at  last  it  was  dis- 
covered that  she  was  a  professional  thief." 

"  Oh !  my  dear,"  gasped  Mrs.  Cottle,  "  what  a 
suggestion !  It  quite  shocks  me." 

Maria  smiled  innocently.  "  There  is  nothing  to 
be  shocked  at,  dear  Mrs.  Cottle ;  it  was  only  a  story 
out  of  a  book." 

"  Maria,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Brown  in  a  hoarse 
whisper,  "  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  you  were  right, 
and  I  were  wrong  after  all,  and  Ethel  Harland  turned 
out  to  be  a  professional  thief,  instead  of  being  merely 
an  actress  as  we  at  first  supposed." 

"  Oh !  I  did  not  mean  to  insinuate  that ;  I  was 
only  telling  you  of  a  tale  that  I  once  read." 

"  Exactly,  my  dear ;  I  quite  understand  that.  But 
truth  is  stranger  than  fiction,  and  I  daresay  you  have, 
by  accident,  hit  upon  the  key  to  the  enigma.  In 
fact,  it  is  borne  in  upon  me  that  your  solution  is  the 
correct  one." 

Poor  Maria  was  so  pleased  at  being  approved  of 
openly  by  Mrs.  Brown,  that  she  failed  to  realize  what 
harm  her  really  innocent  suggestion  had  already 
wrought. 

Mrs.  Cottle  turned  to  Julia  Welford.  "  I  believe 
that  Maria  is  right,  though  it  is  a  terrible  thing  if  it 
is  true !  " 

"  What  did  she  say,  Mrs.  Cottle?  She  spoke  so 
softly  that  I  could  not  catch  it." 

"  She  said  she  believes  that  Ethel  Harland  is 
really  a  professional  thief." 

"  Good  gracious !     I  must  tell  mamma  at  once, 


134 


A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 


and  warn  Percy  against  her.  It  is,  as  you  say,  a  ter- 
rible thing ;  but  I  am  not  surprised.  I  could  believe 
anything  of  that  girl." 

"  Now  I  come  to  think  of  it,"  Mrs.  Brown  was 
saying,  "  there  was  always  a  sly  look  in  Ethel  Har- 
land's  eye ;  instead  of  looking  straight  at  you  she 
seemed  to  peep  through  her  eyelashes  somehow. 
This  accounts  for  it." 

"  It  does  indeed,"  sighed  Mrs.  Cottle,  "  and  for  a 
great  deal  more  in  her  that  I  could  not  explain  at 
the  time." 

So  these  good  people  set  to  work  to  pull  poor 
Ethel's  character  to  pieces ;  and  when  at  last  there 
was  not  a  shred  left,  Mrs.  Brown  offered  up  the  col- 
lect for  "  that  most  excellent  gift  of  charity,"  which 
all  the  ladies  felt  was  a  superfluous  petition  as  far  as 
they  were  concerned,  for  had  they  not  devoted  a 
whole  long  afternoon  to  making  clothes  for  the  poor  ? 
To  their  minds  the  word  charity  meant  missionary 
boxes  and  unbleached  calico ;  its  broader  meaning 
had  never  yet  been  revealed  to  them.  After  the  col- 
lect, they  sat  down  to  a  most  excellent  tea;  and  be- 
fore the  week  was  out  Ethel  Harland's  dishonesty  was 
an  established  fact  in  Sunnydale. 

Although  Ethel  was  undoubtedly  a  clever  young 
woman,  she  had  not  yet  learnt  the  lesson  that  the 
only  way  to  keep  a  secret  is  to  tell  it  to  everybody. 
If  one  does  this,  half  the  hearers  do  not  listen  and 
the  other  half  do  not  believe  it,  so  the  secret  remains 
inviolate.  But  inexperienced  people — whereof  Ethel 
was  one — fancy  that  if  a  skeleton  is  kept  safely  locked 
up  in  a  cupboard,  their  neighbours  will  think  that 
there  is  no  skeleton  at  all ;  instead  of  which,  the 
neighbours  give  their  evil  imaginations  carte  blanche 
to  furnish  that  particular  cupboard  with  every  horror 


THE   USES  OF  GOSSIP. 


135 


under  heaven,  till  the  truth  fades  into  insignificance 
beside  the  ghastly  fables  they  invent.  Skeletons 
should  always  be  kept  in  cupboards  with  glass  doors. 

Not  long  after  Jack  Le  Mesuricr's  visit  to  Silver- 
hampton,  Sir  Roger  ran  up  to  town  for  a  day  or  two, 
and  invited  Jack  to  dine  with  him  at  his  Club. 

Jack  attended  the  feast,  strong  in  his  Aunt  Ca- 
milla's unworldliness ;  but  before  dinner  was  half 
over,  he  found  his  courage  departing  in  the  same  way 
as  did  that  of  Bob  Acres.  If  his  uncle  had  been  a 
man  of  his  own  size,  he  felt  he  could  have  stood  up 
to  him ;  but  who  could  stand  up  to  a  creature  who 
had  the  tongue  of  a  devil  and  the  face  of  a  child  ? 

"  By  the  way,  have  you  proposed  to  Elfrida  Har- 
land  yet  ?  "  asked  Sir  Roger  carelessly,  a  propos  of 
nothing,  as  they  were  sitting  over  their  wine. 

"  No,  sir ;  I  never  said  I  should." 

"  I  know  you  did  not :  that  was  why  I  imagined 
you  were  contemplating  the  step." 

"  But  I  thought  you  knew  I  didn't  care  for  the 
girl." 

"  Perhaps  I  did ;  but,  if  so,  I  had  forgotten  the 
unimportant  detail.  I  do  not  wish  to  appear  unsym- 
pathetic, my  dear  Jack,  but  somehow  your  heroics 
bore  me  a  little." 

"  And  I  don't  wish  to  appear  heroic,"  said  Jack 
stiffly. 

"  No  ?  nevertheless  you  do.  I  should  almost  call 
you  grandiloquent,  if  I  were  not  afraid  of  paining 
you.  Save  your  heroics  for  your  lady  friends,  my 
boy.  Women  like  that  sort  of  thing :  I  don't." 

Jack  played  savagely  with  a  wine-glass.  "  Still  I 
think  I  have  a  right  to  express  my  feelings  with  re- 
gard to  the  woman  you  ask  me  to  marry." 

"  Every  right,  my  dear  boy ;  every  right.     You 


136  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

have  also  every  right  to  describe  to  me  all  the  symp- 
toms of  your  last  attack  of  influenza.  I  daresay  you 
would  enjoy  doing  so,  for  I  have  never  yet  met  a 
person  who  didn't.  But  again  I  must  ask  you  to 
spare  me,  and  to  turn  to  the  sympathy  of  your  female 
friends.  It  is  unfailing,  where  a  bachelor  is  con- 
cerned." 

"  Confound  you ! "  muttered  Jack  under  his 
breath.  His  uncle  pretended  not  to  hear  him,  but 
continued  suavely :  "  It  occurs  to  me  that  your  love- 
making  is  carried  on  along  lines  which  err  on  the 
side  of  caution,  my  dear  Jack.  Now  caution  is  an 
admirable  quality  in  a  trustee ;  but  it  is  not  a  convinc- 
ing trait  in  a  lover.  If  I  know  anything  of  women, 
the  fair  Elfrida  will  want  a  little  more  ardour.  Even 
plain  women,  with  no  fortune  to  speak  of,  require 
sighs  like  a  furnace  and  burning  words  en  suite.  How 
much  more  an  acknowledged  beauty,  with  fifteen 
thousand  a  year?" 

Jack's  wine-glass  broke  in  his  fingers. 

"  Excuse  me,"  said  his  uncle,  handing  him  the 
nut-crackers,  "  I  think  these  will  suit  your  purpose 
better." 

"  Look  here,  sir,"  said  Jack  angrily ;  "  I  am  sorry 
to  offend  you,  but  I  cannot  and  will  not  marry  El- 
frida Hat-land." 

Sir  Roger  raised  his  eyebrows.  "  Don't  apolo- 
gize to  me.  The  only  difference  your  decision  will 
make  to  me  is  that  it  will  give  me  the  trouble  of  al- 
tering my  will,  and  leaving  Greystone  to  the  Irish 
branch  of  the  family  ;  so  suffer  no  remorse  on  my  ac- 
count, I  pray  you.  The  person  to  whom  you  owe 
an  apology  is  yourself ;  and  as  forgiveness  of  one's 
enemies  is  a  Christian  duty,  you  have  every  reason 
to  calculate  upon  your  own  pardon." 


THE   USES  OF   GOSSIP. 


137 


The  heat  of  Jack's  anger  began  to  cool  down  into 
the  chill  of  despair,  but  he  made  another  struggle  for 
freedom. 

"  Every  man  has  a  right  to  please  himself  with  re- 
gard to  his  marriage,"  he  said. 

His  uncle  was  peeling  a  walnut  with  the  utmost 
deliberation,  and  appeared  to  be  attending  to  that 
rather  than  to  the  subject  under  discussion. 

"  There  you  are  mistaken,"  he  replied  absently. 
"A  man  never  pleases  himself  in  matters  of  that  kind  ; 
he  pleases  the  woman  with  whom  he  has  been  so  mis- 
guided as  to  fall  in  love." 

"  If  a  man  really  loves  a  woman,  nothing  pleases 
him  so  much  as  to  see  her  pleased,"  said  Jack. 

Sir  Roger  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  An  admi- 
rable sentiment,  my  dear  boy,  and  none  the  less  ad- 
mirable for  being  untrue.  I  loved  a  woman  once ; 
and  I  discovered  that  nothing  pleased  her  so  much 
as  to  render  me  and  my  affection  ridiculous.  That 
my  taste  may  have  been  peculiar,  I  admit ;  the  fact 
remains  that  when  she  made  fun  of  me  to  finer  and 
better-looking  men,  I  failed  to  derive  the  slightest 
enjoyment  from  the  process." 

"  Oh !  that's  different,"  answered  Jack  lamely. 

"  Not  at  all.  Women  are  never  really  different ; 
they  are  all  exactly  alike,  when  you  get  below  the 
outer  surface  of  their  faces  and  their  manners.  One 
woman  cannot  be  happy  until  she  has  a  man-servant 
to  open  the  door;  she  is  called  socially  ambitious. 
Another  cannot  be  happy  without  a  lover;,  she  pos- 
sesses the  artistic  temperament.  A  third  knows  no 
peace  unless  she  is  ordering  about  a  clergyman  and 
the  parish  under  him ;  she  is  considered  very  re- 
ligious. The  guiding  principle  is  the  same  in  all ;  it 
is  only  in  the  outward  form  that  any  difference  lies." 


138  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  Then  what  is  the  guiding  principle,  do  you 
think  ?  " 

Sir  Roger  waited  while  he  removed  the  last  scrap 
of  walnut  skin ;  then  he  replied  :  "  The  guiding  prin- 
ciple is  the  necessity  of  having  a  man  at  their  beck 
and  call,  to  do  what  they  like  with  ;  and  I  say,  heaven 
help  the  man,  whoever  he  may  be !  " 

"  I  can  imagine  nothing  better  than  to  be  at  the 
beck  and  call  of  one  particular  woman." 

"  Can't  you  ?  Then  all  I  can  say  is  that  imagina- 
tion is  not  your  strong  point." 

"  Look  here,  sir,"  said  Jack,  after  a  moment's 
pause ;  "  I  don't  wish  to  seem  ungrateful  or  to  say 
anything  disrespectful  to  you,  but  I  have  made  up 
my  mind  to  marry  a  girl  without  a  penny,  simply  be- 
cause to  me  she  is  the  only  woman  in  the  world ;  and 
nothing  will  alter  my  decision." 

Sir  Roger  put  the  tips  of  his  delicate  fingers  to- 
gether and  looked  at  his  nephew  through  half-closed 
eyelids.  "  An  admirable  sentiment,  most  admirable ! 
It  is  quite  refreshing  to  meet  with  such  ingenuousness 
nowadays.  You  will  restore  my  childish  beliefs  in 
fairies  and  pixies  if  you  go  on  like  this.  But  I  wish 
you  to  understand  that  the  genuine  admiration  with 
which  your  romantic  behaviour  inspires  me  will  in 
no  way  alter  the  disposition  of  my  property.  Pray 
be  clear  upon  that  point." 

"  I  am  quite  clear,  thank  you." 

"  Then  that  is  all  there  is  to  be  said.  Except 
that,  as  a  matter  of  vulgar  curiosity  on  my  part,  I 
should  like  to  know  whether  poverty  is  as  attractive 
to  the  young  lady  as  it  appears  to  be  to  you.  Nowa- 
days women  are  not  always  sufficiently  aesthetic  to  see 
the  beauty  of  love  in  a  cottage." 

Jack  pushed  away  his  plate  impatiently.     "  Nice 


THE   USES  OF  GOSSIP. 


139 


women  think  more  of  love  than  of  money,  just  as 
they  always  did." 

"  Pardon  me :  clever  women  say  they  do ;  and 
men,  who  are  not  quite  so  clever,  believe  them." 

Jack's  face  flushed.  "  The  woman  I  love  is  not 
afraid  of  poverty,  as  she  has  always  been  poor  her- 
self." 

"  I  see ;  and  knowing  exactly  where  and  how 
painfully  the  shoe  pinches,  she  will  be  all  the  more 
eager  to  put  it  on.  Allow  me  to  congratulate  you 
on  your  powers  of  reasoning ;  and  still  more  on  your 
profound  ignorance  of  the  female  character.  The 
former  I  commend,  but  the  latter  I  envy." 

Jack  had  made  up  his  mind  not  to  quarrel  with 
his  uncle  ;  but  he  twisted  the  nut-crackers  pretty  hard 
just  then. 

"  I  can  quite  imagine  the  sort  of  young  woman 
that  would  attract  you,"  continued  Sir  Roger.  "  In 
my  young  days  she  would  have  had  ringlets  and 
principles  :  nowadays  smooth  hair  and  opinions  mark 
the  type.  They  talk  about  the  parish  and  play  the 
piano,  and  they  are  as  deficient  in  humour  as  they 
are  surcharged  with  propriety.  As  wives  I  believe 
they  are  unexceptional ;  but  to  take  them  down  to 
dinner  is  a  punishment  which  one  would  not  willing- 
ly inflict  upon  one's  bitterest  foes." 

This  description  was  so  very  inapplicable  to  Ethel 
that  it  did  not  make  Jack  as  angry  as  it  might  have 
done.  It  is  only  the  truth  that  one  takes  the  trouble 
to  refute ;  so  he  was  able  to  let  this  pass,  and  to 
divert  the  current  of  the  conversation  into  easier 
channels. 

And  all  this  time  Elfrida  Harland  was  learning 
the  old  lessons  that  one  man  is  more  than  a  million, 
and  that  the  part  is  even  greater  than  the  whole,  when 


140  A  DOUBLE  THREAD. 

the  circle  of  one's  friends  is  the  problem  in  question. 
Because  she  had  never  really  loved  any  one  before, 
she  gave  to  Jack  Le  Mesurier  all  the  love  of  her  life, 
which  had  accumulated  for  twenty-five  years  at  com- 
pound interest.  She  knew  his  footstep  when  she 
heard  it  in  the  street,  and  she  knew  his  ring  from  all 
others  at  the  bell ;  and  because  she  knew  these,  she 
always  pretended  that  she  had  been  taken  by  surprise 
when  he  was  ushered  into  the  drawing-room. 

Till  now  she  had  found  life  rather  a  dull  affair, 
and  it  had  bored  her  a  good  deal ;  but  the  days  were 
no  longer  dull,  and  London  was  no  longer  empty — 
how  could  they  be  after  Jack  Le  Mesurier  had  come 
to  town?  Now  each  day  was  delightful,  for  it  held 
the  possibility  of  a  sight  of  Jack ;  and  every  turn 
might  prove  to  be  a  byway  to  paradise,  as  Jack  might 
be  walking  there. 

One  day  Mrs.  Seeley  told  Jack  the  story  of  the 
pink  diamond.  He  was  extremely  interested  in  it, 
as  his  life  in  India  had  rendered  him  somewhat  super- 
stitious. There  came  a  time  when  he  wished  that  he 
had  never  heard  the  legend ;  but  that  was  not  till 
later. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE    EASTER    HOLIDAYS. 

"  Do  you  know  that  the  sight  of  your  face 

(Though  I  see  you  each  day  of  the  seven) 
Can  transfigure  the  commonest  place 

Into  something  that  seems  to  be  heaven  ?" 

JACK  LE  MESURIER  ran  down  to  Sunny  dale  for 
Easter  as  he  had  promised  ;  and  there  he  found  Ethel, 
staying  with  her  grandparents,  and  looking  brighter 
and  prettier  than  ever. 

The  conversation  at  the  sewing-party  had  already 
begun  to  bear  fruit ;  but  Ethel  had  not  as  yet  grasped 
the  fact  that  all  the  old  ladies  (both  male  and  female) 
of  Sunnydale  were  looking  shy  at  her.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  she  would  not  have  cared  if  she  had ;  for  she 
was  as  yet  young  and  foolish — or,  perhaps,  wise — 
enough  to  think  that  one  young  man's  opinion  is 
worth  more  than  twenty  old  women's  as  an  ingredient 
in  the  manufacture  of  feminine  happiness. 

"  Are  you  glad  to  see  me  again  ?  "  she  said  to  Jack 
one  day. 

"  You  know  that  without  asking,"  replied  he. 

"  Of  course  I  do ;  that  is  why  I  asked.  If  I 
hadn't  have  known,  I  shouldn't  have  asked,  don't 
you  see  ?  " 

Which  remark  proved  that  Ethel  was  not  lacking 

141 


I42  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

in  woman's  logic — an  entirely  different  science  from 
that  practised  by  men. 

As  the  weather  was  fine,  and  Jack  and  Ethel  were 
young  and  had  plenty  of  time  on  their  hands,  the 
inevitable,  as  is  the  way  of  the  inevitable,  came  to 
pass ;  and  before  Ethel's  Easter  holidays  were  over, 
the  two  were  engaged  to  be  married. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Morgan  did  not  interfere  in  any 
way.  Ethel  had  been  her  own  mistress  too  long  to 
submit  to  their  control ;  and  if  she  chose  to  marry 
a  man  who  had  nothing  to  live  upon  but  his  pay,  it 
was  certainly  more  her  business  than  theirs. 

Ethel  herself  was  tremendously  in  love ;  for  she 
made  Jack  into  a  peg  whereon  to  hang  every  virtue 
that  she  happened  to  admire.  And  her  imagination 
so  bedizened  him  with  every  desirable  gift,  that  he 
became  a  sort  of  human  Christmas-tree.  Most  wom- 
en have  a  Christmas-tree  of  this  kind  at  least  once  in 
their  lives ;  and  they  deck  it  with  artificial  lights,  and 
cover  it  with  fruits  that  never  grew  thereon.  Of 
course  in  time  they  discover  that  it  was  an  ordinary 
tree,  and  that  the  lights  and  the  gifts  were  fastened 
on,  and  did  not  really  belong  to  the  tree  at  all.  But 
any  child  knows  that  a  tree  which  has  once  been  a 
Christmas-tree  is  never  quite  the  same  as  other  trees  ; 
and  children  of  a  larger  growth  have  also  learned  as 
much  as  this. 

Now  and  then  a  cloud  came  over  the  sunshine  of 
her  happiness,  and  she  moaned  to  herself,  "  What- 
ever would  he  say  if  he  knew  ?  "  And  sometimes  she 
cried  herself  to  sleep  in  fear  of  the  secret  which  might 
come  between  her  and  her  lover.  But  she  was  a 
light-hearted  woman  on  the  whole,  and  had  a  cheer- 
ful faith  that  things  would  all  eventually  turn  out  for 
the  best ;  and  she  reasoned  that  because  Jack  loved 


THE    EASTER    HOLIDAYS.  143 

her  much  he  would  forgive  her  much  also — a  not 
altogether  inevitable  sequence. 

At  the  beginning  of  her  holiday — before  she  and 
Jack  became  engaged — Ethel  derived  much  whole- 
some recreation  from  the  society  of  Percy  Welford. 
Although  his  mother  and  sister  had  done  all  in  their 
power  to  stamp  the  manhood  out  of  him,  while  he 
himself  had  ably  seconded  their  efforts,  there  were 
still  the  dregs  of  something  not  altogether  contempt- 
ible left  at  the  bottom  of  Percy's  soul.  So  it  came  to 
pass  that,  in  spite  of  Julia's  hints  at  Ethel's  mysterious 
profession,  and  Mrs.  Welford's  maternal  warnings 
against  this  dangerous  young  woman,  Percy  still 
nourished  a  sincere  admiration  for  Miss  Harland, 
and  even  went  so  far  as  to  see  her  home  on  those 
occasions  when  there  was  no  danger  of  his  wetting 
his  feet  or  of  being  found  out  by  his  mother. 

And  this  was  no  light  matter  for  Percy  Welford ; 
for  he  possessed  one  of  those  not  uncommon  elastic 
souls  which  defy  eternal  truth  but  fall  down  before 
established  etiquette.  His  arrogant  intellect  de- 
lighted to  show  forth  how  Shakespeare  knew  noth- 
ing about  Man,  and  Milton  still  less  about  God :  to 
these  master  minds  he  declined  to  bow.  It  was  only 
when  Mrs.  Brown  said  that  his  manners  were  provin- 
cial, and  the  Cottle  girls  laughed  at  the  cut  of  his 
coats,  that  Percy's  proud  spirit  was  humbled  in  the 
dust.  He  evolved  and  encouraged  strange  doubts 
in  his  mind,  sufficient,  he  imagined,  to  provoke 
"  tears  such  as  angels  weep  "  ;  but  on  the  customs  of 
good  society,  as  far  as  he  knew  anything  about  them, 
he  was  slavishly  orthodox.  When  angels  wept, 
Percy  was  bold  and  defiant ;  it  was  only  when  ladies 
laughed  that  he  began  to  tremble.  We  are  all  afraid 
of  something — even  the  bravest  of  us. 


144 


A  DOUBLE   THREAD. 


Percy  Welford  cherished  a  thoroughly  wholesome 
and  English  craving  for  knowledge  as  to  the  doings 
of  the  upper  crust  of  society ;  also  a  firm  and  healthy 
belief  in  the  infallibility  of  any  one  above  the  rank  of 
a  baronet.  Had  such  a  thing  been  possible,  he  would 
have  builded  a  house  for  himself  upon  the  fly-leaf  of 
Burke's  Peerage,  and  dwelt  therein  in  peace ;  and, 
failing  this,  he  dutifully  read  as  his  daily  portion  such 
cuttings  from  the  Court  Circular  as  found  their  way 
into  the  Trawley  Evening  Post.  So  in  spite  of  his 
sister's  hints  as  to  the  mysteriousness  of  Ethel's  occu- 
pation in  London,  Percy  could  not  help  feeling  that  a 
girl  who  had  had  a  lord  for  a  grandfather  was  not 
quite  the  same  as  other  girls,  and  was  in  short  not 
altogether  unworthy  of  his  notice  and  attention. 

"  Have  you  enjoyed  yourself  in  London  since  I 
saw  you  last  ?  "  he  asked  of  Ethel  one  day,  as  he 
overtook  her  walking  home  through  the  village. 

"  Yes  ;  more  than  I  ever  did  before." 

"  Ah !  that  is  because  the  feminine  mind  has  a 
fatal  aptitude  to  adapt  itself  to  its  surroundings,  and 
to  be  satisfied  with  '  vacant  chaff '  when  there  is  no 
grain  within  its  reach.  I  am  different  from  this ; 
emptiness  would  always  be  emptiness  to  me,  froth 
would  always  be  froth,  even  though  I  knew  that  froth 
and  emptiness  were  foredoomed  to  be  my  portion." 

"  I  see,"  said  Ethel.  She  did  not  think  it  neces- 
sary to  explain  that  she  had  been  happier  for  the 
last  few  months  than  she  had  ever  been  before,  be- 
cause Jack  Le  Mesurier  had  come  into  her  life. 

•  "  You  must  forgive  me  for  saying  that  all  finely 
nurtured  souls  cherish  this  divine  discontent,"  con- 
tinued Percy ;  "  and  turn  away  dissatisfied  from 
everything  which  falls  short  of  the  absolute  perfection 
which  they  crave." 


THE   EASTER    HOLIDAYS. 


145 


Ethel  stole  a  glance  at  Percy's  hat,  and  wondered 
whether  his  finely  nurtured  soul  turned  away  from 
that.  It  certainly  fell  short  of  absolute  perfection, 
even  of  moderate  good  style;  but  she  forebore  to 
put  the  question  to  him,  and  listened  meekly  as  he 
went  on : 

"  You  can  imagine,  or  rather  you  cannot  imagine, 
how  distasteful  Sunnydale  is  to  me  whom  even  Lon- 
don fails  to  satisfy.  The  people  here  are  so  common- 
place— in  fact,  so  common — that  they  grate  upon  me 
at  every  turn.  Look  at  their  clothes,  for  instance ; 
they  are  enough  to  make  a  real  gentleman  shudder." 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you."  With  Percy's  present 
costume  before  her  eyes,  Ethel  could  do  this  in  all 
sincerity. 

"  Then  take  their  manners.  They  are  loud- 
voiced  and  bumptious,  and  talk  of  nothing  but  them- 
selves and  their  own  concerns,  as  if  other  people 
wanted  to  know  what  they  do  and  think  and  feel,  for- 
sooth !  " 

Ethel's  eyes  twinkled.  "  That  is  very  bad-man- 
nered of  them !  You  ought  to  go  and  live  in  London 
if  you  find  provincial  society  so  uncongenial." 

"  Even  London  would  not  satisfy  me,"  continued 
Percy  gloomily.  "  My  soul  is  always  starved  while 
I  am  there.  It  is  all  so  hollow,  so  false,  so  mere- 
tricious ;  but  perhaps  you  are  as  yet  too  young  to 
notice  the  gnawing  worm  within  the  apparently  smil- 
ing fruit." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  smiling  fruit  ?  I  don't 
quite  understand." 

For  a  moment  Percy  experienced  an  awful  doubt 
as  to  Ethel's  seriousness,  and  looked  round  at  her 
hastily.  But  there  was  nothing  in  her  expression  to 
arouse  his  suspicions ;  she  was  merely  gazing  at  him 


I46  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

with  an  air  of  pretty  bewilderment,  like  a  puzzled 
child. 

"  I  mean  that  fashionable  life  is  a  volcano,"  he 
said,  "  where  men  dance  in  sunny  vineyards,  heedless 
of  the  seething  crater  boiling  beneath  their  feet." 

"  But  how  can  a  volcano  be  a  fruit?  " 

Percy  thought  what  a  pity  it  was  that  pretty  wom- 
en were  nearly  always  stupid. 

"  I  was  speaking  in  metaphors,  Miss  Harland.  It 
is  a  way  I  have  when  I  am  at  all  moved ;  but  do  not 
let  my  cynicism  overcloud  your  brightness.  We  look 
at  fashionable  life  from  different  standpoints,  and  I 
would  not  let  my  foolish  wisdom  shadow  your  bliss- 
ful ignorance." 

The  standpoint  from  which  he  looked  at  fashion- 
able life  was  usually  the  table  d'hote  of  a  large  hotel. 
It  was  no  wonder  that  his  view  was  a  depressing 
one. 

"  What  have  you  seen  from  your  standpoint  ?  " 

"  I  have  seen  that  human  nature  is  bad — bad  to 
the  core ;  and  I  have  learnt  to  put  no  faith  in  any  of 
my  fellow-creatures.  It  is  perhaps  a  disadvantage  to 
be  as  clear-sighted  as  I  am.  I  often  envy  simpler 
souls  who  can  still  be  cajoled  and  deceived ;  but  it 
is  my  lot,  as  a  man  of  the  world,  to  see  through  all 
the  little  artifices  that  take  in  blinder  men  :  so  I  must 
bear  the  curse  of  wisdom  and  not  complain." 

Ethel  stifled  a  laugh.  She  had  never  met  any  one 
in  her  life  so  gullible  as  Percy. 

"  It  must  be  a  bore  to  be  as  wise  as  that,"  she 
said. 

He  sighed.  "  Clearness  of  vision  ever  brings  to 
its  possessor  as  much  pain  as  pleasure.  I  often 
wish  I  did  not  see  faults  and  failings  so  clearly.  I 
should  be  a  happier  man." 


THE   EASTER    HOLIDAYS.  ^7 

"  Then  do  you  see  your  own  faults  as  clearly  as 
you  see  other  people's  ?  " 

"  Quite — quite ;  and  that  is  where  the  pain  comes 
in.  1  know  that  I  am  scornful  and  bitter  and  scep- 
tical, and  too  severe  on  the  weaknesses  of  my  fellow- 
creatures,  and  too  proud  of  my  own  intellectual  su- 
periority. But  knowing  this,  alas !  will  not  make 
me  into  an  amiable,  credulous  fool." 

Of  course  it  would  not,  because  Nature  had  done 
so  already;  but  of  this  Percy  was  not  aware. 

"  I  wish  you  would  tell  me  something  about  fash- 
ionable life,"  entreated  Ethel.  "  It  would  interest 
me  so  much." 

Now  this  was  distinctly  wrong  of  her,  and  she 
knew  that  it  was ;  but  Percy  began  to  enjoy  himself 
immensely,  in  all  good  faith. 

"  I  have  seen  a  great  deal  of  high  life,  and  I  have 
looked  below  the  surface ;  and  it  is  this  which  has 
made  me  what  I  am,"  he  sighed. 

"  And  is  it  all  as  gay  and  careless  and  frivolous 
as  it  looks  ?  "  asked  Ethel. 

"  No ;  its  mirth  is  folly  and  its  laughter  is  tears. 
I  remember  once  meeting  the  beautiful  Countess  of 
Mershire,  and  learning  from  her  how  weary  she  was 
in  the  midst  of  all  her  splendour.  I  have  never  for- 
gotten it." 

Percy  had  once  bought  a  buttonhole  from  Lady 
Mershire  at  a  bazaar.  He  had  remarked  that  it  was 
a  fine  day  for  the  time  of  year,  and  her  ladyship  was 
yawning  so  violently  that  she  could  not  answer  him. 
But  the  story  sounded  quite  thrilling  told  as  he 
told  it. 

"  Lady  Mershire  is  a  pretty  woman,  and  she  has 
the  most  wonderful  diamonds,"  said  Ethel  absently. 

Percy  looked  surprised.     What  could  a  little  gov- 


I48  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

erness  know  about  Lady  Mershire's  diamonds?  He 
recalled  Julia's  insinuations,  and  uncomfortable 
doubts  crept  into  his  mind. 

Seeing  his  look  of  surprise,  Ethel  realized  what 
she  had  said.  She  grew  very  red,  and  hastened  to 
add,  in  a  blundering  way,  quite  unlike  her  usual  easy 
manner : 

"  At  least  I  have  heard  that  she  is — has,  I  mean. 
Do  you  think  it  is  going  to  be  fine  to-morrow  ?  The 
sunset  is  very  red,  and  a  red  sky  at  night  generally 
means  a  fine  day,  doesn't  it  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know." 

Percy  did  not  like  being  put  off  like  this.  Why 
should  Ethel  be  so  uncomfortable,  and  show  so  ob- 
viously that  her  acquaintance  with  Lady  Mershire's 
diamonds  was  an  acquaintance  of  which  she  was 
ashamed,  he  wondered?  It  was  quite  possible,  if 
not  probable,  that  a  governess  might  have  met  the 
Countess  in  the  house  of  her  employers  and  seen  her 
wonderful  jewels ;  but  why  should  she  be  so  vexed  at 
having  let  out  the  fact?  Even  Percy's  somewhat 
blunt  intelligence  felt  that  there  was  something  not 
quite  comfortable  and  aboveboard  here. 

As  for  Ethel,  she  was  saying  to  herself :  "  I  must 
be  more  careful,  or  people  will  find  me  out,  and  then 
what  will  Jack  say?  I  think  I  should  die  if  he  re- 
fused to  forgive  me ;  and  yet  he  may  throw  me  over 
altogether  when  he  knows.  I  must  keep  him  in  the 
dark  a  little  longer,  and  enjoy  for  a  while  the  first 
real  happiness  that  has  yet  come  into  my  life." 

For  the  rest  of  the  way  home  Ethel  was  very 
quiet.  She  had  not  even  spirit  enough  left  to  make 
fun  of  Percy  Welford ;  and  her  grandparents  noticed 
that  she  was  not  her  usual  bright  self  that  evening. 

When  Jack  first  became  engaged  to  Ethel,  he  said 


THE   EASTER    HOLIDAYS. 


149 


to  her  one  day :  "  Dear,  I  want  you  to  tell  me  all 
about  yourself,  so  that  there  may  be  no  secrets  be- 
tween us.  I  have  shown  you  every  page  of  my  life, 
and  now  I  want  you  in  return  to  let  me  read  every 
page  of  yours." 

Ethel  caught  her  breath  in  a  little  sob.  "  Oh 
Jack !  anything  but  that." 

"  Why  not,  darling?  Surely  the  man  who  is  go- 
ing to  be  your  husband  has  the  right  to  know  every- 
thing about  you." 

"  Yes,  you  have  the  right,  I  admit ;  but,  Jack, 
dear,  won't  you  trust  me  a  little  longer  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I'll  trust  you  till  death  if  need  be ; 
but  I  cannot  for  the  life  of  me  see  why  there  should 
be  any  secrecy  between  us.  I  am  not  such  a  cad  as 
to  think  any  the  worse  of  a  woman  because  she  has 
to  earn  her  own  living ;  on  the  contrary,  I  respect 
and  honour  her  far  more  than  I  do  the  fine  ladies  who 
only  sit  at  ease  and  enjoy  themselves." 

"  That  is  just  like  you ;  you  always  look  at  things 
from  the  highest  point  of  view." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that ;  I  take  the  common- 
sense  view,  that  is  all.  Why,  sweetheart,  I  believe 
I  first  fell  in  love  with  you  because  I  thought  it  so 
splendid  of  you  to  fight  life's  battle  by  yourself,  and 
I  longed  to  be  allowed  to  fight  it  for  you." 

Ethel  drew  a  deep  sigh.  "  You  are  a  good  man, 
Jack  ;  the  very  best  I  ever  met." 

"  No,  no,  I'm  not ;  it  is  because  you  like  me  that 
you  imagine  things  concerning  me.  I'm  really  a 
most  ordinary  and  commonplace  individual.  But 
you  have  never  told  me  how  you  earn  your  living, 
Ethel ;  and  I  confess  that  I  should  like  to  know.  Are 
you  a  governess,  or  a  companion,  or  what?  " 

Ethel  was  silent  for  a  moment,  then  she  said: 


jtjO  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"Jack,  would  you  do  anything  for  me  that  I 
wanted  ?  " 

"  You  know  I  would." 

"  Then  I  ask  you  to  trust  me  a  little  longer,  and 
not  to  put  any  more  questions  to  me.  I  want  you 
to  give  me  your  word  that  you  will  not  ask  me — or 
anybody  else — for  information  respecting  me  and  my 
means  of  livelihood  until  I  choose  to  give  you  such 
information  of  my  own  free  will.  I  have  a  special 
reason  for  wishing  to  keep  my  affairs  secret  for  a 
time,  and  I  know  you  will  respect  this  wish,  as  you 
do  all  my  wishes." 

"  Of  course  I  will,"  answered  Jack,  who  could  not 
very  well  do  less. 

"  And  you  mustn't  take  any  notice  of  the  nasty 
things  that  people  say  about  me.  People  are  always 
ready  to  say  nasty  things  of  a  woman  whose  misfor- 
tune it  is  to  stand  alone.  I  may  have  been  foolish, 
I  admit — in  fact  I  now  realize  that  I  have  been  very 
foolish  indeed,  and  have  made  a  great  mistake.  But 
foolishness  is  not  wrongness,  is  it  ?  " 

"  Of  course  it  isn't.  But  don't  you  think  I  could 
help  you  to  overcome  the  effects  of  your  folly,  what- 
ever it  may  have  been,  if  only  you  would  tell  me  all 
about  it  ?  " 

Ethel  looked  at  him  reproachfully.  "  Oh  Jack, 
and  you  promised  not  to  ask  any  more  questions !  " 

"  Well,  dearest,  I  won't  if  you  don't  like  it.  But 
all  the  same  I  wish  you'd  let  me  help  you." 

"  The  only  way  you  can  help  me  is  by  trust- 
ing me." 

"  Then  I'll  do  that  with  all  my  heart,  because  I 
know  that  you  will  never  deceive  me."  And  Jack 
kept  his  word. 

There  were  great  excitement  and  much  disappro- 


THE   EASTER   HOLIDAYS.  15 1 

bation  at  Sunnydale  at  the  news  of  Captain  Le  Mesu- 
rier's  engagement  to  Ethel  Harland.  Whenever  the 
subject  was  mentioned  the  old  ladies  attuned  their 
voices  to  that  sad  drawl  which  people  always  use 
when  they  are  referring  to  a  headache  or  a  bereave- 
ment ;  their  "  poorly  voice,"  Ethel  called  it ;  and  the 
young  ladies  all  said  that  Jack  was  a  most  unattractive 
man,  and  that  nothing  would  have  induced  them  to 
marry  him  if  he  had  asked  them.  So  it  seemed  fortu- 
nate, all  things  considered,  that  Jack  had  asked  Ethel. 

He  was  radiant,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  had 
flung  wealth  and  Greystone  away,  and  had  doomed 
himself  to  return  to  India  and  finish  his  time  there. 
Jack  was  a  resolute  man,  and  one  who  never  in- 
dulged in  regrets.  He  knew  what  he  wanted,  and 
he  made  up  his  mind  to  get  it  at  all  costs ;  and  if  the 
cost  happened  to  be  heavier  than  he  expected,  it  was 
only  the  fortune  of  war,  and  in  no  way  hindered  him 
from  doing  what  he  originally  intended.  The  only 
fly  of  any  size  in  his  ointment  was  Ethel's  refusal  to 
tell  him  all  about  herself.  He  trusted  her  implicitly 
and  loyally  forbore  to  make  any  more  inquiries  as  to 
her  occupation.  He  was  enough  of  a  gentleman  to 
avoid  the  subject  after  he  had  seen  that  it  was  dis- 
tasteful to  her ;  but  he  was  also  enough  of  a  man  to 
chafe  inwardly  at  the  restriction  she  had  imposed 
upon  him.  Mysteriousness  is  by  no  means  "  an  ex- 
cellent thing  in  woman,"  and  especially  in  a  woman 
whose  name  is  ordained  to  be  blazoned  on  the  sacred 
pages  of  the  Baronetage. 

Lady  Silverhampton  had  once  said  in  Jack's  hear- 
ing, "  A  girl  should  always  tell  a  man  all  about  her- 
self, even  when  there  isn't  a  word  of  truth  in  it." 
Poor  Ethel  was  not  so  wise  in  her  day  and  generation 
as  Lady  Silverhampton,  as  Jack  learned  to  his  cost. 


CHAPTER  XL 

EASTBOURNE. 

"  The  stupid  people  come  and  go, 

And  prate  of  pleasures  old  and  new  ; 
But  they  offend  and  bore  me  so 
Because,  sweetheart,  they  are  not  you." 

WHEN  Ethel's  Easter  holidays  were  over,  Jack 
returned  to  town,  with  that  ghastly  sense  of  a  hole 
in  his  life  which  certain  partings  induce  in  everybody 
at  some  time  or  another.  And  because  his  heart  was 
full  of  Ethel,  and  his  conscience  not  quite  comfort- 
able as  to  how  Elfrida  would  receive  the  news  of  his 
engagement,  he  did  not  call  upon  Miss  Harland  as 
soon  as  he  might  have  done,  nor  did  he  let  her  know 
of  his  return  to  London.  When  at  last  he  did  call 
at  the  house  in  Mayfair,  he  found  that  Elfrida  had 
gone  to  Eastbourne  for  a  week,  and  his  feeling  was 
certainly  not  that  of  disappointment.  Thus  have 
even  brave  men  the  fear  of  Woman  before  their  eyes. 

In  common  with  the  rest  of  the  world,  Elfrida 
had  been  away  from  town  for  Easter.  When  she  re- 
turned— with  the  rest  of  the  world — and  found  that 
there  was  nothing  going  on  in  London  (that  is  to  say, 
that  Captain  Le  Mesurier  did  not  call  upon  her),  she 
was  so  restless  that  she  went  away  again ;  and  thus 
missed  the  very  thing  for  which  she  was  longing. 
152 


EASTBOURNE. 


153 


That  is  so  like  Fate :  she  generally  arranges  for 
one's  heart's  desire  to  call  the  very  day  after  one  has 
grown  tired  of  staying  in  for  it ;  just  as  she  sends  her 
choicest  invitations  for  days  already  filled  up  by  a 
previous  engagement.  It  is  her  way  of  amusing  her- 
self— also  of  educating  men  and  women  at  the  same 
time. 

Elfrida's  mind  was  so  full  of  Jack  that  she  could 
not  settle  down  to  anything.  Consequently  Arabella 
Seeley  was  having  rather  a  hard  time.  It  still  never 
occurred  to  Elfrida  to  regard  her  sister  as  a  serious 
rival,  although  she  saw  how  ready  Jack  was  to  fight 
Ethel's  battles.  But  she  knew  Ethel's  secret,  and 
Jack  did  not;  which  accounted  for  their  different 
ways  of  looking  at  the  matter.  But  though  Miss 
Harland  was  not  troubled  by  any  pangs  of  jealousy, 
she  was  not  altogether  happy  about  Jack;  she  did 
not  as  yet  feel  sure  of  his  feelings  for  her,  though  she 
did  not  suspect  him  of  caring  for  any  other  woman. 
Hence,  her  restlessness  and  irritability  with  Mrs.  See- 
ley  ;  hence  also,  a  somewhat  worn  and  anxious  look 
on  her  usually  impassive  face.  People  who  are  not 
sure  about  things  are  very  tiresome  to  live  with,  as 
poor  Arabella  proved  just  then. 

"  I  think  Eastbourne  is  a  sweet  place,"  said  the 
latter  one  day,  making  a  frantic  effort  after  pleasant- 
ness and  peace. 

"  What  nonsense,  Arabella !  It  is  the  dullest 
place  in  the  world." 

"  Then  why  not  go  back  to  London,  dear  love?  " 

"  Because  London  is  ten  times  duller,"  replied 
Elfrida  crossly. 

After  a  few  minutes'  silence,  in  which  Arabella 
thought  of  what  she  should  say  next,  and  Elfrida 
wondered  what  Jack  was  doing  at  that  particular  mo- 


154  A   DOUBLE    THREAD. 

ment,  Mrs.  Seeley  remarked :  "  I  saw  Sir  Philip  Cay 
on  the  sea-wall  to-day.  I  am  sure  he  has  come  after 
you,  Elfrida,  and  for  no  other  reason ;  because  he 
took  the  trouble  to  explain  to  me  that  it  was  very 
annoying  for  him  to  have  to  leave  town  just  now, 
but  he  was  here  expressly  by  his  doctor's  orders. 
That  was  conclusive  to  my  mind." 

"  How  silly  you  are,  Arabella !  You  are  always 
thinking  men  are  in  love,  and  it  is  so  absurd." 

It  is  sometimes  more  uncomfortable  to  think  they 
are  not,  as  Elfrida  herself  had  learnt. 

"  You  think  and  talk  too  much  about  love,"  she 
continued  sternly ;  "  and  it  is  a  waste  of  time." 

Which  perhaps  was  true ;  but  it  was  a  form  of 
extravagance  which  Elfrida  was  hardly  in  a  position 
to  reprove  just  then. 

"  Don't  you  think  you  flirt  a  teeny-weeny  bit  too 
much  ?  "  suggested  Mrs.  Seeley. 

"Me?     I  don't  flirt  at  all." 

"  Oh  yes,  you  do,  darling.  You  flirt  with  Sir 
Philip  and  with  Captain  Le  Mesurier  and  with — 

"  Well,  of  course  I  do.  What  are  men  made  for 
but  to  flirt  with?  Do  you  think  I  am  the  sort  of 
woman  who  will  talk  to  them  about  their  souls,  or 
offer  to  darn  their  stockings  ?  " 

"  Of  course  not,  dear  Elfrida.  But  it  is  wrong  to 
break  their  strong,  brave  hearts,  don't  you  think? 
I'm  sure  I  don't  know  what  I  should  do  if  I  broke  a 
man's  heart.  I  don't  indeed." 

"  I  do.  You  would  talk  to  him  in  a  whiney-piney 
voice,  and  offer  him  a  cough-lozenge  ;  and  then  think 
he  would  soon  be  all  right  again ;  and  he  probably 
would." 

Mrs.  Seeley  sighed :  it  grieved  her  sorely  when 
Elfrida  went  on  like  this.  She  was  one  of  those  ro- 


EASTBOURNE. 


155 


mantic  women  who  live  in  a  city  composed  entirely 
of  harmless  little  castles  in  the  air;  and  when  El- 
frida  bombarded  her  city  and  left  it  in  ruins,  Ara- 
bella mourned. 

"  You  do  not  understand  men,  my  love  :  you  treat 
them  as  if  they  were  grown-up  children." 

"  And  so  they  are,"  retorted  Elfrida,  "  except  in 
the  instances  when  they  happen  to  be  old  women." 

Now  even  a  worm  will  turn  if  you  provoke  it  long 
enough ;  and  by  this  time  Arabella's  turning-point 
had  been  reached.  So  she  said,  in  her  sweetest  tone : 

"  Do  you  know,  darling,  I  should  not  call  Cap- 
tain Le  Mesurier  either  a  young  child  or  an  old 
woman." 

"  Of  course  he  isn't.  Who  ever  said  he  was  ? 
You  really  are  very  inconsequent  this  afternoon." 

"  You  said  he  was,  dearest." 

"  I  didn't.  I  never  mentioned  Jack — I  mean 
Captain  Le  Mesurier's  name,  so  how  could  I  have 
said  anything  against  him?  You  will  aggravate  me 
if  you  go  on  like  this." 

After  this  snub  the  worm  nerved  itself  for  a  fresh 
revolt. 

"  Talking  of  Captain  Le  Mesurier,  has  it  ever  oc- 
curred to  you,  my  sweetest,  that  he  is  in  love  with 
your  sister,  Miss  Ethel  Harland  ?  " 

Elfrida's  face  changed.  "  No,"  she  answered 
slowly,  "  I  don't  think  it  ever  has.  What  put  such 
an  idea  as  that  into  your  head  ?  " 

"  Well,  he  seems  to  like  talking  about  her,  I 
think." 

"  Stuff  and  nonsense !  " 

"  Also,  my  love,"  continued  Mrs.  Seeley,  "  I  think 
that  you  are  a  wee  bit  too  sharp-tongued  for  the 
captain,  though  he  admires  your  undoubted  good 


I56  A   DOUBLE    THREAD. 

looks ;  and  as  I  have  heard  that  your  sister  possesses 
your  beauty  without  your  grand  air,  I  conclude  that 
he  would  find  her  more  attractive  and  more  in  ac- 
cordance with  his  peculiar  taste.  You  live  too  much 
under  a  strain,  darling,  and  so  are  not  quite  easy 
enough  for  simple-minded  people ;  and  soldiers  are 
always  simple-minded,  the  dear  creatures !  " 

"  People  who  don't  live  under  a  strain,  as  you 
call  it,  grow  old  and  rude  and  ugly.  There  is  noth- 
ing so  fatal  to  good  manners  and  good  looks  as  an 
easy  life." 

"  I  don't  think  so,  darling." 

"  Then  I  do." 

'•  Another  thing  that  makes  me  think  that  the 
captain  is  interested  in  your  sister  is  that  he  is  so  ex- 
tremely anxious  to  induce  you  to  make  friends  with 
her,  and  assist  her,"  added  Mrs.  Seeley. 

"  Pooh !  that  is  nothing.  Any  man  would  natu- 
rally feel  sorry  for  a  girl  in  Ethel's  position,  or  at 
least  in  the  position  in  which  Captain  Le  Mesurier 
supposes  Ethel  to  be,  and  would  do  anything  in  his 
power  to  help  her.  I  see  no  proof  of  special  devotion 
in  that." 

Elfrida  had  pulled  herself  together  by  this  time, 
and  tried  to  speak  naturally.  She  had  no  intention 
of  wearing  her  heart  on  her  sleeve  for  Arabella  See- 
ley  to  peck  at. 

But  Arabella  was  bent  on  pecking,  and  refused  to 
be  put  off  with  anything  less  interesting  than  El- 
frida's  heart. 

"  Did  you  never  notice,"  she  continued,  "  how  his 
face  lights  up  at  the  mere  mention  of  Ethel's  name? 
It  makes  him  look  five  years  younger  and  ten -times 
better-looking,  and  is  far  more  becoming  than  saying 
prunes  and  prism." 


EASTBOURNE. 


157 


"  What  stuff !  You  allow  your  imagination  to 
run  away  with  you ;  and,  besides,  it  is  very  bad  form 
to  spy  upon  people  like  that,  and  remark  upon  it 
afterwards.  But  have  you  actually  seen  him  show 
any  feeling  at  the  mention  of  my  sister's  name  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  have,  dearest  Elfrida,  or  I  should 
not  have  called  your  attention  to  it.  I  wonder  you 
haven't  noticed  it  yourself,  it  is  so  very  obvious. 
But  people  who  have  never  been  in  love  are  sadly 
blind  to  these  things,  which  are  open  secrets  to  us 
who  have  loved  and  suffered." 

Even  Arabella  could  be  spiteful  at  times. 

After  a  long  silence,  during  which  Mrs.  Seeley 
enjoyed  the  taste  of  victory,  Elfrida  suddenly  said  in 
a  voice  that  trembled  a  little  in  spite  of  all  her  efforts 
to  steady  it :  "  Do  you  think  that  that  look  on  a 
man's  face  means  that  he  just  admires  a  girl,  or  that 
he  really  cares  for  her  ?  " 

Arabella's  spite  was  short-lived,  and  on  hearing 
that  suspicious  little  quiver  in  Elfrida's  voice  she 
melted  at  once.  "  Men  are  so  different,  darling,  that 
we  never  can  judge  one  by  another  ;  and  what  means 
a  great  deal  in  one  man,  in  another  means  nothing 
at  all.  For  instance,  Willy  Chase  used  to  tell  me  at 
least  three  times  every  week  how  much  he  loved  me, 
and  Teddy  Simpson  never  mentioned  it  more  than 
twice  a  year ;  yet  I  believe  Teddy  cared  for  me  more 
than  Willy  did  after  all.  And  I  daresay  Captain 
Le  Mesurier  is  a  man  who  looks  much  and  feels  little  ; 
the  two  often  go  together." 

"  Perhaps  so,"  replied  Elfrida  absently. 

"  Besides,  dear,  when  he  learns  that  there  is  a 
secret  in  Ethel's  life  I  am  sure  he  will  cease  to  care 
for  her,  even  if  he  does  so  already  ;  for  men  of  Captain 
Le  Mesurier's  type  hate  mysteries,  and  never  can  for- 


158  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

give  a  woman  for  keeping  them  in  the  dark.  I  have 
no  idea,  as  you  know,  what  Ethel's  secret  is ;  neither, 
he  tells  me,  has  he;  though  I  am  sure,  love,  if  you 
would  only  trust  me  you  would  never  feel  your  con- 
fidence had  been  misplaced." 

It  was  a  sore  point  with  Mrs.  Seeley  that  the  rea- 
son why  the  twin  sisters  were  doomed  to  lifelong 
separation  was  as  much  a  mystery  to  her  as  to  the 
rest  of  the  world. 

"  And  then  you  see,  darling  Elfrida.  when  he 
finds  out,  as  he  is  bound  to  do  some  time,  that  your 
sister  has  deceived  him  and  kept  him  in  the  dark,  he 
will  lose  all  further  interest  in  her,  and  will  be  no 
longer  incensed  against  you  for  not  helping  her,  as 
he  is  now.  He  will  then  quite  forgive  you,  I  have 
no  doubt,  for  refusing  to  share  your  wrealth  with 
Ethel ;  as  the  more  a  man  has  cared  for  a  girl,  the 
more  bitter  against  her  he  is  when  he  finds  her 
out." 

But  in  spite  of  Arabella's  amende  honorable  and 
comforting  words,  Elfrida  Harland  cried  herself  to 
sleep  that  night,  and  on  many  succeeding  ones. 

"  O  Jack,  Jack,"  she  moaned  aloud,  "  what  shall 
I  do  without  you  ?  Don't  you  know  that  I  only  care 
for  my  money  because  it  may  serve  you,  and  for  my 
beauty  because  it  may  please  you?  To  me  there  is 
nothing  but  you  in  the  whole  world  ;  and  now  I  have 
lost  you !  " 

When  Arabella  saw  the  results  of  her  spiteful 
words,  in  Elfrida's  heavy  eyes  and  pale  cheeks,  she 
bitterly  repented  what  she  had  said.  But  she  could 
not  unsay  them.  So  easy  is  it  to  put  out  the  light  in 
another's  face,  and  so  impossible  to  rekindle  it.  Any 
passer-by  can  extinguish  a  lamp ;  but  it  is  only  the 
lamp-lighter  who  can  light  it  again ;  and  if  he  (or 


EASTBOURNE.  159 

she)  be  busy  lighting  lamps  elsewhere,  we  are  doomed 
to  abide  in  darkness. 

Now  it  happened  that  while  Elfrida  Harland  was 
eating  her  heart  out  at  the  Grand  Hotel  at  East- 
bourne, Mrs.  Cottle  brought  her  daughters  from  Sun- 
nydale  to  sojourn  in  that  very  house.  To  Mrs.  Cot- 
tie  a  yearly  visit  to  the  seaside  was  what  a  London 
season  is  to  matrons  of  a  higher  growth ;  that  is  to 
say,  it  was  a  dive  into  the  vortex  of  society  in  search 
of  a  pearl,  in  the  shape  of  a  desirable  son-in-law. 

Although  the  Miss  Cottles  were  as  yet  the  Miss 
Cottles,  their  mother's  net  was  not  altogether  empty ; 
for  Janetta  had  met  an  excellent  young  man  at  Mar- 
gate two  years  previously,  and  had  speedily  discov- 
ered that  the  soul  of  a  hero  may  be  hidden  behind 
the  features  of  an  accountant.  After  making  which 
discovery  she  consented  to  share  the  home  of  the 
hero  at  such  future  time  as  the  purse  of  the  account- 
ant could  provide  the  same.  Emmeline,  the  second 
Miss  Cottle,  was  still  disengaged ;  but  her  sister's 
success  made  every  seaside  trip  a  season  of  hope 
to  her,  and  every  table  d'hote  a  possible  banquet  of 
love. 

The  Miss  Cottles  had  been  christened  Jane  and 
Emma ;  but  their  mother  called  them  Janetta  and 
Emmeline  for  short. 

On  the  night  of  their  arrival  at  Eastbourne  they 
came  down  early  to  dinner,  so  as  to  see  how  the  land 
lay  and  who  else  was  staying  at  the  hotel.  At  tables 
dfhote  the  Cottles  always  declined  to  have  a  small 
table  to  themselves,  and  chose  to  sit  at  the  large 
centre  one  where  bachelors  most  do  congregate. 
They  said  it  was  "  more  lively  "  ;  and  so  it  was. 

On  this  occasion,  as  they  were  watching  their  co- 
travellers  pour  into  the  sallc-a-mahgcr,  Emmeline 


!6o  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

suddenly  exclaimed :  "  Oh !  see,  mamma,  isn't  that 
Ethel  Harland  there,  looking  quite  the  lady  ?  " 

"  I  fancy  it  is,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Cottle,  putting  on 
her  eyeglasses ;  "  but  it  is  difficult  to  recognise  any 
one  at  this  distance." 

"  She  is  got  up,  and  no  mistake,"  added  Janetta. 

"  She  is  a  ripping  fine  girl,"  said  Janetta's  young 
man,  who  was  christened  Ebenezer  and  called  Benny. 

"  I  don't  admire  that  style,"  remarked  Janetta 
severely ;  "  I  call  it  coarse." 

Benny  caved  in  at  once.  "  I  mean  to  say  that 
for  a  fair  woman  she  is  not  bad-looking;  but  dark 
girls  for  me,  if  you  please ! " 

Janetta  softened  again.  Her  hair  was  the  colour 
of  a  wet  umbrella,  and  her  eyes  were  like  little  black 
currants.  Naturally  Elfrida's  golden  hair  did  not  ap- 
peal to  her  sense  of  the  beautiful,  and  she  rightly  felt 
that  it  ought  not  to  have  appealed  to  Benny's. 

"  She  is  sadly  over-dressed,"  sighed  Mrs.  Cottle ; 
"  I  do  not  think  it  is  ladylike  for  young  girls  to  wear 
silk.  She  would  look  far  more  genteel  in  something 
simple." 

"  Far  more,"  agreed  Janetta ;  and  Benny  added 
"  Far,"  like  a  polite  echo. 

"  She  seems  to  have  lots  of  admirers,"  said  Em- 
meline  wistfully.  "  Look  how  they  are  buzzing 
round  her." 

Mrs.  Cottle  shook  her  head.  "  Very  improper. 
Very  improper  indeed !  I  cannot  bear  to  see  young 
girls  talking  to  a  crowd  of  men  like  that.  I  call  it 
most  unmaidenly — especially  when  they  must  all  be 
wanting  to  commence  their  dinners." 

"  Who  is  the  lady  with  her,  I  wonder?  "  was  Em- 
meline's  next  remark. 

"  Evidently  quite  a  common  person,"  replied  her 


EASTBOURNE.  ,61 

mother  loftily ;  "  there  is  nothing  of  the  lady  about 
her." 

Emmeline  continued  to  watch  the  Harland  party 
with  envy.  "  They  seem  to  be  having  lots  of  fun," 
she  said,  with  a  sigh. 

Mrs.  Cottle  shook  her  head.  "  My  dear  Emme- 
line, how  often  must  I  tell  you  that  there  is  nothing 
so  vulgar  as  fun !  It  shocks  me  to  see  young  women 
laughing  heartily;  real  ladies  only  smile." 

Mrs.  Cottle  was  frequently  "  shocked."  She  con- 
sidered it  a  prerogative  of  gentility. 

"  Still,  mamma,  it  must  be  nice  to  have  several 
beaux  at  once — especially  such  nicely  dressed  ones." 

"  My  word,  Emmeline,  what  common  ideas  you 
have !  I  cannot  imagine  where  you  get  them  from, 
as  your  dear  papa  and  I  have  always  been  so  refined 
in  our  ideas,  and  have  never  let  our  children  mix 
with  anybody  except  well-to-do  people.  It  is  posi- 
tively shocking  to  hear  you  talk  in  that  way !  I  have 
told  you  that  Ethel  Harland  is  not  at  all  a  nice  per- 
son, or  a  suitable  friend  for  my  daughters.  And 
what  I  see  now  confirms  me  still  further  in  my  opin- 
ion. So  do  give  over  looking  at  her,  and  attend  to 
your  dinner  like  a  young  lady." 

Whereupon  Emmeline  relapsed  into  rather  sulky 
silence,  while  Mrs.  Cottle  entered  into  pleasant  and 
instructive  conversation  with  an  elderly  gentleman 
on  her  left  hand.  As  for  Benny  and  Janetta,  they 
talked  to  each  other,  and  the  former  endeavoured  to 
atone  for  the  double  mistake  of  admiring  Elfrida  and 
of  saying  so. 

After  a  time  Mrs.  Cottle  turned  again  to  her  fam- 
ily circle  in  a  state  of  great  excitement. 

"Oh!Nmy  dears,  what  do  you  think?  We  have 
made  a  great  mistake !  That  sweet  young  lady  is  not 


l62  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

Ethel  Harland  at  all,  but  her  wealthy  and  beautiful 
twin  sister,  the  late  Lord  Harland's  heiress.  This 
gentleman  has  been  telling  me  all  about  her.  It  is 
most  interesting !  "  And  Mrs.  Cottle  put  up  her  eye- 
glasses so  that  she  might  study  Elfrida's  habits  the 
more  minutely. 

"  She  is  the  very  image  of  Ethel,"  remarked  Em- 
meline. 

But  her  mother  demurred.  "  No,  my  love,  no ; 
there  is  a  refinement  about  this  sweet  young  lady 
which  Ethel  altogether  lacks ;  and  though  there  is 
doubtless  a  family  resemblance  between  the  two,  they 
are  really  quite  different.  You  can  see  at  a  glance 
that  Miss  Elfrida  Harland  has  been  brought  up  in 
wealthy  and  aristocratic  circles ;  while  Ethel  has  all 
the  pushing  self-confidence  of  a  young  person  who 
earns  her  own  living." 

"  This  one  is  certainly  much  more  ladylike  than 
Ethel,"  agreed  Janetta.  "  Mamma  is  quite  right. 
Don't  you  think  so,  Benny?  " 

But  Benny  had  learnt  wisdom  from  recent  ex- 
perience, and  merely  repeated  that  Miss  Harland 
wasn't  bad-looking  for  a  fair  girl,  but  dark  girls  for 
him,  if  Janetta  pleased. 

"  And  isn't  her  toilet  elegant  ?  "  continued  Mrs. 
Cottle  rapturously.  "  After  all,  there  is  nothing 
looks  so  well  as  silk,  or  pays  so  well  for  making  up. 
And  what  a  graceful  creature  Miss  Harland  has  with 
her !  Her  lady-companion,  I  make  no  doubt.  Quite 
an  aristocratic  person !  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if 
she  turned  out  to  be  the  daughter  of  a  regular  army 
officer,  or  perhaps  even  the  widow  of  a  clergyman." 

Emmeline  gazed  open-mouthed  at  the  Harland 
party.  "  She  seems  an  awful  flirt,  I  think." 

Mrs.  Cottle  reproved  her  offspring  at  once.    "  My 


EASTBOURNE.  ^3 

love,  you  should  not  make  uncharitable  remarks.  It 
is  natural  for  young  persons  to  be  lively  and  to  wish 
to  enjoy  themselves ;  and  it  is  not  fair  to  accuse  a 
young-  lady  of  flirting  just  because  she  is  so  attractive 
that  gentlemen  cannot  help  but  admire  her.  You 
should  not  be  so  severe  on  your  own  sex,  Emmeline. 
If  you  are,  people  will  say  you  are  growing  bitter 
and  jealous,  and  there  is  nothing  spoils  a  girl's 
chances  as  much  as  that.  I'm  sure  when  I  was 
young  I  often  said  girls  were  pretty  when  I  thought 
them  hideous,  for  fear  the  men  should  say  I  was 
growing  spiteful ;  for  when  a  girl  is  growing  spiteful 
it  means  that  she  is  growing  old." 

For  the  remainder  of  the  meal  Mrs.  Cottle 
watched  Miss  Harland's  proceedings  with  absorbing 
interest,  while  Janetta  and  Emmeline  examined  from 
afar  her  Parisian  gown ;  and  decided,  with  a  faith 
which  could  have  worked  miracles  if  employed  in  a 
right  direction,  to  have  two  exact  reproductions 
made  of  it,  for  their  own  wear,  by  the  village  dress- 
maker at  home. 

The  next  day  Mrs.  Cottle  found  no  rest  for  the 
sole  of  her  foot  till  she  had  started  an  acquaintance- 
ship with  the  wealthy  Miss  Harland.  To  meet  a 
lord's  granddaughter  on  the  common  ground  of  a 
seaside  hotel  and  not  to  "  make  friends  "  with  her, 
was  a  culpable  waste  of  opportunity  whereof  Mrs. 
Cottle  would  have  scorned  to  be  found  guilty.  In 
this  worthy  lady's  vocabulary  the  expression  "  mak- 
ing friends  "  meant  exchanging  a  few  remarks  about 
the  weather,  unscreened  by  the  sanction  of  a  formal 
introduction. 

Fate  smiled  upon  her  efforts.  At  about  midday 
she  ran  Elfrida  to  earth  in  the  entrance  hall. 

"  A  beautiful  morning,"  she  began ;  "  such  de- 


164  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

lightful  sunshine,  and  the  wind  is  bracing  without 
being  cold." 

"  Charming,"  replied  Miss  Harland  laconically. 
But  Mrs.  Cottle  was  not  to  be  rebuffed. 

"  And  this  is  such  a  sweet  place,"  she  continued ; 
"  so  healthy  and  yet  so  fashionable.  My  dear  daugh- 
ters and  I  are  quite  in  love  with  it,  I  can  assure  you. 
We  are  acquainted  with  a  number  of  health  resorts, 
but  find  this  the  most  delightful  one  that  we  have 
yet  visited." 

"  It  is  a  pretty  town." 

Then  Mrs.  Cottle  forsook  the  paths  of  platitude, 
and  tried  a  more  personal,  and  therefore  a  more  in- 
timate, style  of  conversation. 

"  I  think  that  you  and  I  ought  to  be  friends,  Miss 
Harland,  as  I  happen  to  be  acquainted  with  your 
charming  sister." 

"  Indeed  ;  I  myself  haven't  that  pleasure,"  replied 
Elfrida  stiffly. 

Mrs.  Cottle  looked  puzzled.  "  Not  acquainted 
with  your  own  sister,  Miss  Harland?  Surely  that  is 
only  your  fun !  I  have  frequently  had  the  pleasure 
of  meeting  her  at  Sunnydale,  and  she  and  my  dear 
girls  are  quite  bosom-friends,  I  can  assure  you." 

Now  that  Ethel  seemed  about  to  develop  into  a 
bridge  suitable  for  the  conveyance  of  Mrs.  Cottle  into 
good  society,  that  sensible  woman  began  to  speak 
well  of  the  organist's  granddaughter. 

"  Perhaps,"  she  continued,  "  Miss  Ethel  Harland 
may  have  mentioned  our  names  in  her  letters.  I  am 
Mrs.  Cottle,  and  my  girls  are  named  Janetta  and  Em- 
meline.  Janetta  is  engaged  to  a  most  admirable 
young  gentleman,  Mr.  Ebenezer  Peck  by  name, 
whom  we  had  the  good  fortune  to  meet  at  Margate 
two  years  ago.  He  very  kindly  repaired  the  tyre  of 


EASTBOURNE. 


I65 


Janetta's  bicycle  one  day  when  she  punctured  it  three 
miles  out  of  town.  They  struck  up  an  acquaintance- 
ship and  exchanged  cards,  and  by  the  time  our  little 
seaside  trip  was  over  they  were  engaged  to  be  mar- 
ried." 

"  Indeed."     Elfrida  was  not  encouraging. 

"  Doubtless  your  sister  has  named  us  to  you," 
added  the  dauntless  matron. 

"  I  have  never  had  a  letter  from  my  sister  in  my 
life.  She  and  I  were  separated  by  the  express  wish 
of  Lord  Harland  when  we  were  in  our  cradles,  and 
we  have  held  no  communication  with  each  other 
since." 

"  Dear  me !  "  gasped  Mrs.  Cottle.  She  could  not 
quite  stifle  an  irreverent  feeling  that  the  domestic  ar- 
rangements of  the  aristocracy  were  a  little  peculiar  at 
times. 

"  Therefore  I  have  no  idea  where  my  sister  is,  nor 
whom  her  friends  may  be.  It  would  be  impossible 
to  find  two  persons  more  completely  apart  than  my 
twin  sister  and  myself." 

After  which  unmistakable  snub  Elfrida  strolled 
out  of  the  door,  leaving  Mrs.  Cottle  defeated  for  once 
in  her  life:  the  good  lady's  only  consolation  being 
that  no  one  else  had  been  present  to  witness  her  dis- 
comfiture. 

It  is  not  what  happens  to  us  that  matters  so  much, 
but  who  sees  it  happen.  The  sense  of  proportion  is 
less  important  to  most  of  us  than  the  sense  of  per- 
spective ;  and  the  village  at  our  gates  is  consider- 
ably larger  in  our  eyes  than  the  city  that  is  far  off. 
Mrs.  Cottle  did  not  mind  defeat,  but  she  minded 
sorely  lest  Sunnydale  should  know  she  had  been 
defeated ;  just  as  Janetta's  engagement  would  have 
been  robbed  of  half  its  splendour  had  not  Benny  been 


1 66  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

dragged  at  her  chariot  wheels  up  Sunny  dale  High 
Street. 

Wisdom  dwelt  with  the  Scotchman  who  said, 
"  And  who'd  care  to  ride  in  his  ain  carriage,  if  the 
gude  folks  of  Dunfermline  werena  there  to  see  it  ?  " 

This  man  had  no  sense  of  proportion,  but  his 
knowledge  of  perspective  was  profound. 


CHAPTER  XII. 
JACK'S  CONFESSION. 

"  I  need  thee,  Love,  in  peace  or  strife  ; 
For,  till  Time's  latest  page  be  read 
No  other  smile  could  light  my  life 
Instead." 

WHILE  Miss  Harland  was  thinking  about  Jack, 
and  quarrelling  with  Arabella,  and  snubbing  Mrs. 
Cottle  at  Eastbourne,  Captain  Le  Mesurier  ran  down 
to  Greystone  for  the  day,  in  order  to  break  the  news 
of  his  engagement  to  his  uncle. 

The  sight  of  the  fine  old  home  which  ought  to 
have  been  his,  but  which  he  had  renounced  for  Ethel's 
sake,  added  fuel  to  the  fire  of  his  love  for  her.  This 
was  because  he  was  a  man,  and  therefore  self-sacri- 
fice was  a  voluntary,  if  violent,  form  of  exercise  to 
him.  Had  he  been  a  woman,  the  effect  would  have 
been  precisely  opposite ;  as  to  her  self-sacrifice  would 
have  been  a  daily  and  disagreeable  duty,  too  recur- 
rent to  allow  of  any  afterglow. 

Sir  Roger  looked  as  bland  and  childlike  as  ever. 
He  was  so  small  a  personage  that  Time  had  appar- 
ently overlooked  him  in  passing. 

"  Sit  down,  my  dear  nephew,"  he  began  cordially ; 
"  I  presume  you  have  something  disagreeable  to  say, 
or  else  you  would  not  have  come  down  by  a  morning 

167 


l68  A   DOUBLE    THREAD. 

train.  People  who  say  pleasant  things  always  travel 
after  lunch.  It  is  only  relations  and  subscription- 
hunters  that  call  in  the  morning." 

"  I  am  afraid  that  I  have  something  disagreeable 
to  say :  I  have  come  to  tell  you  that  I  am  engaged 
to  be  married." 

Sir  Roger  raised  his  eyebrows.  "  Disagreeable 
to  the  lady  or  to  me?  " 

"  To  you ;  she  hasn't  any  money." 

"  Pardon  me,  not  to  me ;  to  you,  without  doubt, 
and  probably  to  herself." 

"  I  called  to  tell  you,  instead  of  writing,  because 
I  thought  it  would  vex  you,"  said  Jack  boyishly. 

"  My  dear  Jack,  how  nice  and  thoughtful  of  you ! 
But  why  on  earth  should  it  vex  me?  The  unavoid- 
able discomforts  arising  from  poverty  will  doubtless 
inconvenience  both  yourself  and  the  future  Lady  Le 
Mesurier;  but  it  would  be  affectation  of  me  to  pre- 
tend that  my  eternal  slumber  will  be  any  the  less 
sweet  because  you  and  she  are  compelled  to  wear 
ready-made  clothes  and  to  dine  off  cold  mutton." 

Again  Jack  experienced  the  paralysing  effect  of 
his  uncle's  sprightly  cynicism.  It  made  him  feel  as 
insipid  and  shapeless  as  if  he  had  been  a  boned  turkey 
at  a  ball  supper. 

Sir  Roger  continued.  "  Is  it  permitted  to  ask  the 
name  of  the  young  lady  whose  attractions  are  power- 
ful enough  to  render  the  atmosphere  of  poverty  and 
the  air  of  India  alike  salubrious  and  refreshing?" 

"  Ethel  Harland ;  Elfrida  Harland's  penniless 
twin  sister." 

"  Indeed  ;  how  deeply  interesting,  and  even  touch- 
ing! Here  are  two  sisters,  equally  well-born  and 
beautiful  and  accomplished,  I  presume,  one  being 
the  sole  mistress  of  fifteen  thousand  a  year,  and 


JACK'S  CONFESSION.  j6g 

the  other  utterly  impecunious,  and  either  yours  to  be 
had  for  the  asking.  With  a  Quixotism,  fortunately 
as  rare  as  it  is  remarkable,  you  select  the  latter  and  let 
the  former  go.  From  an  altruistic  or  aesthetic  point 
of  view  your  action  is  simply  admirable ;  but  I  have 
my  doubts  if,  from  a  domestic  one,  it  will  be  equally 
satisfactory." 

"  Look  here,  sir,"  said  Jack,  "  I  don't  want  to  irri- 
tate you  or  go  in  for  what  you  call  heroics ;  but  I 
just  wish  to  tell  you  that  my  attachment  to  Ethel 
Harland  is  so  great  that  it  would  be  impossible  for 
me  ever  to  care  for  any  other  woman." 

"  Of  course,  of  course ;  most  natural  and  most 
creditable.  There  is  but  one  cure  for  a  love-affair, 
so  far  as  I  have  ever  heard." 

"And  what  is  that?" 

"  Another." 

"  Believe  me,  sir,  you  would  not  talk  in  that  fash- 
ion if  you  had  seen  Ethel." 

Sir  Roger  waved  his  hand  in  his  usual  airy  fash- 
ion. "  Spare  me,  my  dear  Jack ;  spare  me,  I  entreat 
you.  I  admit  that  if  a  woman  can  outweigh  in  a 
man's  estimation  all  the  other  good  things  of  life,  her 
attractions  must  be — well,  decidedly  more  consider- 
able than  the  wisdom  of  the  man.  Therefore  I  con- 
clude that  Miss  Emily — or  did  you  say  Ethel  ? — Har- 
land is  a  most  charming  young  person ;  but  it  would 
bore  me  terribly  to  have  her  charm  demonstrated  by 
you.  I  take  it  as  read." 

Jack  rose  from  his  chair.  "  Then  there  is  nothing 
more  to  be  said.  I  had  better  be  getting  back  to 
town." 

"  Gently,  my  dear  boy,  gently.  The  fact  that  you 
have  spoiled  your  life  is  no  reason  why  you  should 
spoil  your  lunch,  and  my  cook  is  far  more  capable  of 


I/O 


A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 


preparing  the  one  than  you  apparently  are  of  arrang- 
ing the  other.  So  go  for  a  stroll,  and  take  another 
look  at  the  price  which  you  are  willing  to  pay  in  ex- 
change for  the  affections  of  Miss  Emily — I  beg  your 
pardon,  Miss  Ethel — Harland." 

"  I  think  that  if  you  were  to  see  Ethel  you  would 
understand  my  feeling  for  her,"  repeated  Jack,  trying 
to  speak  gently. 

"  Oh !  there  is  no  necessity  for  that ;  I  can  un- 
derstand your  feeling  perfectly,  thank  you — I  only 
fail  to  commend  it.  Yours  is  not  at  all  an  abstruse 
problem — not  at  all  a  complicated  case.  It  is  as  sim- 
ple, and  as  common,  as  measles  or  whooping-cough  ; 
the  only  funny  thing  is  that  you  should  have  such  a 
violent  attack  at  your  time  of  life.  Were  you  seven- 
teen, instead  of  seven-and-twenty,  your  condition 
would  be  absolutely  normal." 

Jack  looked  somewhat  offended.  "  I  can  only 
repeat,  as  I  said  before,  that  you  do  not  understand 
me  in  the  least,  Sir  Roger." 

"  Pardon  me ;  we  never  laugh  at  jokes  unless  we 
understand  them,  and  now  you  are  amusing  me  im- 
mensely. My  only  regret  is  that  I  fear  the  future 
Lady  Le  Mesurier  will  fail  to  appreciate  the  humour 
of  the  position  as  thoroughly  as  I  do.  When  a  joke 
is  made  at  one's  own  expense,  it  somehow  loses  point 
and  charm,  don't  you  know?  And  I  fancy  the  ex- 
penses of  this  joke  will  fall  somewhat  heavily  upon 
you  and  your  wife  in  time  to  come.  But  it  is  never- 
theless extremely  funny  to  onlookers." 

"  Ethel  is  no  more  afraid  of  poverty  than  I  am," 
replied  Jack  loftily. 

"  Indeed ;  just  as  doubtless  she  is  quite  innocent 
of  the  fact  that  you  are  certainly  heir  to  a  baronetcy, 
and  possibly  to  a  fine  fortune  and  estate  as  well.  It 


JACK'S  CONFESSION.  l?l 

is  remarkable  how  often  courage  and  simplicity  go 
together !  " 

"  You  do  her  a  base  injustice." 

Sir  Roger  shook  his  head.  "  It  is  also  remark- 
able how  often  justice  is  called  injustice  when  she 
takes  off  her  bandage  and  ceases  to  play  at  blind- 
man's-buff,  and  how  we  always  say  that  people  don't 
appreciate  us  when  they  begin  to  appreciate  us  thor- 
oughly." 

Jack  was  really  cross  by  this  time — with  his  uncle 
for  saying  such  things,  and  with  himself  for  listening 
to  them — so  he  answered  sharply :  "  It  is  also  inter- 
esting that  whenever  people  suspect  other  people  of 
anything,  you  may  safely  conclude  that  the  suspect- 
ors  are  capable — if  not  actually  guilty — of  that  thing 
themselves.  When  a  man  complains  continually  of 
the  meanness  of  his  companions,  I  know  that  that 
man  is  mean ;  when  a  woman  persistently  sus- 
pects her  friends  of  insincerity,  I  know  that  that 
woman  is  insincere.  It  is  only  by  seeing  a  fault  in 
ourselves  that  we  learn  to  expect  it  in  other  people/' 

Sir  Roger  nodded  and  smiled.  "  Quite  true,  my 
dear  boy ;  and  your  remark  shows  powers  of  percep- 
tion for  which  I  have  hitherto  not  given  you  credit. 
It  also  leads  me  to  conclude  that  your  own  ideas  of 
the  folly  of  mankind  in  general  must  be  somewhat 
exaggerated." 

Jack  strode  out  of  the  room  and  banged  the  door 
behind  him.  His  uncle's  views  of  men  and  things — 
and  most  especially  women — grated  upon  him  at 
every  turn,  and  yet  imbued  him  with  such  a  sense 
of  powerlessness  as  made  fighting  appear  absurd  as 
well  as  ineffectual.  It  was  in  Sir  Roger's  power  of 
making  things  appear  absurd  that  his  real  strength 
lay. 


1^2  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

Ridicule  is  a  terrible  weapon,  and  is  powerless 
only  against  those  who  in  their  turn  possess  also  a 
sense  of  humour.  And  herein  Jack  Le  Mesurier  was 
deficient. 

When  all  the  fairies  are  invited  to  a  baby's  chris- 
tening, the  most  important  invitation  is  the  one  ad- 
dressed to  the  Goddess  of  Humour ;  and  the  postage 
of  that  should  always  be  remembered  whatever  others 
are  forgotten.  For  it  is  only  this  particular  fairy  who 
can  prevent  people  from  making  blunders  and  verses 
and  all  such  atrocities.  Without  her  for  guide,  men 
become  instructive  and  women  sentimental,  and  both 
equally  tiresome.  But  those  who  can  claim  her  as 
their  fairy  godmother,  find  all  the  common  pumpkins 
of  everyday  life  turned  into  state  coaches  :  and  dance 
along  earth's  dusty  ways  in  slippers  made  of  shining 
glass  instead  of  dull  black  leather.  For  it  is  God- 
dess Humour  alone  who  can  show  us  the  hidden 
pathos,  and  therefore  the  hidden  beauty,  of  things 
and  people  whom  the  other  fairies  would  deem  dull 
and  commonplace.  It  is  she  alone  who  can  teach  us 
that  the  little  nibbling  cares  and  annoyances,  which 
would  worry  us  to  death  if  we  let  them  have  their 
way,  can  be  turned  into  well-behaved  menials,  and 
made  to  stand  in  their  proper  place  out  of  sight  be- 
hind our  equipage,  by  the  simple  expedient  on  our 
part  of  laughing  at  them  instead  of  taking  them  seri- 
ously. And  she  is  very  hospitable ;  for  she  brings 
to  all  her  godchildren  an  invitation  to  the  state  ban- 
quet, which  is  none  other  than  the  "  continual  feast  " 
of  the  "  wise  man's  merry  heart."  Also  she  insists 
on  their  leaving  punctually  on  the  stroke  of  the  clock  ; 
for  she  is  clever  enough  to  know  that  the  really  nice 
things  are  the  things  whereof  we  do  not  have  quite 
enough,  and  that  nothing  will  change  the  coaches 


JACK'S  CONFESSION.  173 

back  into  pumpkins  and  the  flunkeys  back  into  mice 
so  quickly  as  the  process  known  as  being  "  bored." 

When  Jack  Le  Mesurier  flung  himself  out  of  his 
uncle's  presence,  much  to  that  uncle's  unholy  amuse- 
ment, he  walked  across  the  park  to  the  old  church, 
and  had  another  look  at  the  images  of  those  dead  and 
gone  ancestors  of  his ;  and  then  he  entered  the  rec- 
tory garden  and  came  face  to  face  with  the  rector, 
who  was  busy  setting  his  garden  in  order  for  the 
coming  summer. 

The  sight  of  the  stone  warriors  soothed  Jack  just 
as  it  had  done  before.  It  seemed  as  if  they  had  as 
much  right  to  laugh  at  his  uncle  as  his  uncle  had  to 
laugh  at  him.  How  ridiculous  it  must  seem  to  them, 
after  some  four  centuries'  experience,  to  see  men 
and  women  bartering  their  hearts  and  souls  for  such 
worthless  trifles  as  rank  and  wealth  and  pleasure — 
things  which  were  fifth-rate  at  best,  and  then  only 
annuals.  To  them  it  must  appear  so  childish  and 
unbusiness-like  to  exchange  real  jewels  for  sham 
ones,  and  freeholds  for  short  leases.  It  was  a  com- 
fort to  think  that  anybody  could  dare  to  laugh  at  Sir 
Roger;  and  Jack  felt  sure  that  those  old  Crusaders 
were  doing  it  somehow  and  somewhere. 

"  I've  been  looking  at  those  old  Le  Mesuriers  in 
there,"  he  said  abruptly  to  the  rector,  "  and  wonder- 
ing if  they  are  laughing  at  our  ridiculous  views  of 
life." 

Mr.  Cartwright  smiled.  "  I  have  no  doubt  of  it ; 
we  must  seem  very  absurd  to  them." 

"  Very ;  and  I  wonder  if  they  despise  us  too." 

"  I  don't  think  so ;  they  know  too  much  by  this 
time  and  are  too  wise  to  despise  anybody.  I  agree 
with  you  that  they  must  be  laughing  at  us — but  ten- 
derly, as  we  laugh  at  the  absurdities  of  a  little  child, 


174 


A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 


with  the  laughter  that  has  healing  in  it  instead  of 
bitterness,  and  pity  rather  than  scorn." 

"  I  wish  the  present  Sir  Roger  knew  as  much  as 
they  do,  then." 

"  You  can  hardly  expect  that,"  replied  the  rector, 
"  seeing  that  they  have  already  lived  for  several  cen- 
turies longer  than  he  has." 

Mr.  Cartwright  never  said  "  had  "  and  "  was  " 
when  speaking  of  people  who  have  died,  but  always 
"  have  "  and  "  are."  This  was  because  the  woman 
he  loved  had  died,  and  he  still  loved  her. 

"  Yet  my  uncle  seems  to  know  a  good  deal,"  said 
Jack  wearily. 

"  Oh  dear  no !  believe  me,  he  really  knows  very 
little.  He  was  a  Senior  Wrangler  and  I  only  took  a 
pass  degree,  but  I  own  I  should  be  ashamed  of  my- 
self if  I  did  not  know  more  than  he  does." 

Jack  brightened  up.  Mr.  Cartwright  seemed  to 
be  as  sensible  as  the  old  Crusaders  and  much  more 
companionable. 

"  You  see,"  continued  the  rector,  "  Sir  Roger  has 
tried  to  do  without  love  and  religion ;  and  as  they  are 
the  only  two  things  that  really  educate  a  man,  your 
poor  uncle  is  wofully  uneducated.  That  is  what  is 
wrong  with  him." 

"  Yet  he  is  a  clever  man." 

"  Remarkably  so ;  but  also  totally  ignorant  of  the 
things  that  really  matter." 

"  I  think  you  know  more  than  he  does,"  Jack 
said. 

"  Yes ;  I  have  learned  that  humanity  is  fine,  but 
that  Divinity  is  infinitely  finer;  I  have  learned  that 
sin  is  strong,  but  that  Grace  is  infinitely  stronger ; 
and  I  have  learned  that  sorrow  goes  deep,  but  that 
love  goes  infinitely  deeper.  I  have  also  learned  that 


JACK'S  CONFESSION.  ^5 

many  things  are  good,  and  that  most  things  are 
funny." 

"  Should  you  call  my  uncle  funny  ?  "  asked  Jack. 

"  Intentionally — moderately  so ;  unintentionally — 
extremely  so.  He  has  made  a  little  garden  for  him- 
self, well  out  of  reach  of  the  sunshine  of  human  love 
and  the  rain  of  human  tears,  and  has  rolled  it  with 
heavy  and  lifeless  philosophy,  and  has  planted  it  with 
bitter  herbs  ;  and  he  actually  believes  that  that  stuffy 
little  back  garden  is  the  whole  world.  Oh  !  he  really 
is  extremely  amusing  when  you  come  to  think  of 
him;  and,  as  I  said  before,  most  lamentably  igno- 
rant." 

"  I  wish  Sir  Roger  knew  that  he  is  funny,"  said 
Jack  vindictively;  "  it  would  do  him  all  the  good  in 
the  world." 

"  Oh !  dear  no,  it  wouldn't,  because  h,e  wouldn't 
believe  it ;  and  what  you  know  and  don't  believe, 
does  you  about  as  much  good  as  a  bottle  of  medicine 
that  stands  untasted  on  your  mantelshelf  till  it  dies 
of  inanition  and  the  housemaid.  That  is  what  hap- 
pens to  all  the  bottles  of  medicine  that  my  doctor 
ever  prescribes  for  me,  and  I  confess  that  I  am  as  well 
without  them  as  with  them." 

"  Then  don't  you  believe  that  people  ever  know 
that  they  are  unintentionally  funny !  " 

"  If  they  are  without  a  sense  of  humour  they  have 
no  idea  of  the  thing.  If  they  are  blessed  with  that 
precious  sense,  they  know  that  they  must  somehow 
be  funny  to  onlookers ;  but  they  could  not  tell  you 
when  nor  where,  for  the  life  of  them.  Your  uncle 
belongs  to  the  latter  class,  so  must  be  conscious  that 
he  is  more  or  less  amusing :  but  I  fancy  he  has  no 
idea  how  delightfully  ridiculous  he  is." 

Jack  looked  at  the  rector  with  increasing  interest. 


176  A  DOUBLE   THREAD. 

He  was  as  yet  young  enough  and  foolish  enough  to 
believe  that  extremely  good  people  are  also  extremely 
dull  people — a  common  heresy  which  Philip  Cart- 
wright  was  born  to  refute. 

It  would  have  been  impossible  for  any  one  to  be 
long  in  the  rector's  company  without  feeling  an  in- 
terest in  him ;  and  Jack  Le  Mesurier  was  quite  an 
ordinary  person. 

In  the  first  place  Philip  Cartwright  was  a  remark- 
ably handsome  man — a  fact  which  will  always  help 
people  to  influence  their  fellows,  until  those  fellows 
are  as  blind  as  the  fish  in  the  mammoth  caves  of  Ken- 
tucky ;  and  in  the  second  place  he  possessed  to  an 
unusual  degree  that  magic  gift  called  charm,  without 
which  even  a  handsome  man  cannot  be  attractive. 
He  always  spoke  of  himself  as  "  an  old  bachelor," 
because  he  was  between  forty  and  fifty  years  of  age, 
and  looked  ten  years  younger;  and  he  invariably 
laughed  at  his  own  want  of  scholarship,  because  he 
was  one  of  the  best-read  men  in  England — just  as 
rich  people  always  talk  of  their  poverty,  and  well- 
dressed  ones  of  their  shabby  clothes.  But  perhaps 
the  gift  which  had  stood  him  in  best  stead  in  his  deal- 
ings with  men  and  women,  was  his  intense  and  won- 
derful sympathy.  Some  people  called  Mr.  Cart- 
wright  inquisitive ;  but  these  were  stupid  people  who 
were  not  endowed  with  understanding  hearts.  His 
was  no  idle  curiosity,  but  an  absorbing  interest  in 
anything  and  everything  which  affected  his  fellow- 
creatures.  He  had  often  been  angry,  but  never  im- 
patient ;  he  had  often  felt  weary,  but  never  bored. 

Again,  stupid  people  were  apt  to  think  him  heart- 
less, because  he  could  see  the  humour  in  the  most 
pathetic  things,  and  because  he  was  always  cheerful, 
and  took  encouraging  views  of  life.  They  did  not 


JACK'S  CONFESSION.  j-y 

know  that  his  cheerfulness  arose  not  from  ignorance 
of  sorrow,  but  from  having  gone  down  into  the 
depths  of  suffering  and  come  out  whole  on  the  other 
side.  His  was  the  joyousness  of  Easter,  not  of 
Christmas ;  but  how  could  passing  acquaintances  be 
expected  to  understand  so  nice  a  distinction  as  this? 
Enough  for  them  that  he  seemed  happy — therefore, 
they  argued,  must  feel  happy ;  and  consequently, 
they  concluded,  he  could  never  have  felt  anything 
else.  So  subtle  and  satisfactory  is  the  wisdom  of 
this  world. 

Jack  soon  fell  under  the  spell  of  the  rector's  mag- 
netic personality,  without  in  the  least  understanding 
it ;  and  he  had  not  walked  round  the  quaint  old  rec- 
tory garden  three  times  before  he  felt  constrained  to 
tell  Mr.  Cartwright  the  story  of  Sir  Roger's  present 
hard-heartedness. 

"  I  say,"  he  began  bluntly,  "  I  wonder  if  you  have 
ever  been  worried  or  bothered  about  anything.  You 
look  so  strong  and  calm  that  a  fellow  cannot  imagine 
your  being  down  in  the  mouth." 

Jack  had  never  heard  the  story  of  the  woman  who 
died  at  thirty,  and  was  still  a  girl  to  Philip  Cartwright 
and  always  would  be.  But  the  rector  had  only  been 
at  Greystone  for  three  years,  so  the  early  chapters  of 
his  life  had  not  been  read  and  understanded  of  the 
people  there,  which  perhaps  made  life  all  the  easier 
for  him. 

Mr.  Cartwright  smiled ;  he  was  used  to  people's 
thinking  that  he  had  never  felt  anything,  when  he 
knew  he  had  felt  twenty  times  more  than  they  ever 
had  felt  or  could  feel.  "  I  have  had  my  ups  and 
downs  like  the  rest  of  us,"  he  said :  "  I  have  stood 
upon  Carmel  and  laid  down  under  the  juniper  tree, 
as  we  all  have  to  do  sooner  or  later." 


178  A   DOUBLE    THREAD. 

"  Then  you  understand  how  a  fellow  feels  when 
he's  worried  about  things,  and  doesn't  know  which 
way  to  turn." 

"  I  think  I  know  how  a  fellow  feels  when  he  is 
worried  about  things ;  but  there  never  is  really  but 
one  way  to  turn,  and  that  not  the  easy  and  pleasant 
way,  as  a  rule." 

"  You  mean  there  is  only  one  right  way  ?  " 

"  Precisely  ;  and  that  is  by  no  means  always  pleas- 
ant walking.  Yet  to  a  man,  worthy  of  the  name, 
there  is  no  alternative  path." 

Then  Jack  told  Mr.  Cartwright  the  story  of  his 
love  for  Ethel,  and  how  hard  Sir  Roger  had  been, 
and  how  he  sometimes  wondered  if  he  were  justified 
in  asking  any  woman  to  share  such  poverty  as  his. 
The  rector  listened,  and  sympathized,  and  under- 
stood. It  was  a  good  thing  for  any  man  to  make  a 
friend  of  Philip  Cartwright,  for  he  added  to  his  ex- 
perience patience,  and  to  patience  common  sense — 
not  an  inevitable  combination. 

"  You  see,  I  don't  know  if  it  is  fair  on  a  girl  to 
take  her  out  to  India  with  nothing  but  my  pay  for  us 
to  live  on.  And  yet  I  couldn't  go  back  again  with- 
out her,"  Jack  sighed  at  the  end  of  his  story. 

"  But  she  knows  you  are  not  well  off,  I  suppose ; 
you  have  never  let  her  believe  that  you  are  a  prince  in 
disguise,  have  you  ?  " 

"  Oh !  no,  of  course  not.  But  she  knows  I  am 
the  next  heir  to  the  title,  and  she  may  hardly  realize 
how  utterly  bare  that  title  will  be,  though  I  have 
tried  to  make  her  understand." 

Some  of  Sir  Roger's  bitter  little  seeds  had  taken 
root  even  in  Jack's  loyal  heart.  Mr.  Cartwright  per- 
ceived this,  and  his  eyes  twinkled.  "  I  see  your 
uncle's  preaching  has  not  been  altogether  vain." 


JACK'S   CONFESSION.  j^ 

Jack  flushed.     "  It  was  not  exactly  my  uncle." 

"  Pardon  me,  I  think  it  was.  That  is  the  worst 
of  people  with  evil  tongues.  They  sow  nasty  poison- 
ous seeds  all  over  the  place,  like  thistles,  and  some  of 
the  thistles  always  grow  up ;  and  there  are  generally 
plenty  of  asses  about  to  enjoy  them  when  they  are 
full  grown.  I  don't  wonder  that  S.  James  became 
excited  when  he  began  discussing  the  mischief 
wrought  by  the  human  tongue.  It  is  a  mischief- 
making  machine !  " 

"  I  should  be  ashamed  of  myself  if  I  allowed  my 
uncle's  hateful  remarks  to  have  any  influence  at  all 
upon  me,"  replied  Jack  indignantly. 

"  That  you  have  every  reason  to  be  ashamed  of 
yourself  I  admit ;  but  that  doesn't  alter  the  fact  that 
Sir  Roger's  words  have  not  altogether  left  you  as 
they  found  you.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  nobody's  words 
do;  and  yet  people  go  peppering  them  all  over  the 
place,  utterly  unconscious  of  the  awful  responsibility 
they  are  thereby  incurring..  As  a  pretty  Irish  friend 
of  mine  once  said  to  me,  '  In  throwing  mud,  even  if 
none  of  it  sticks,  some  does,'  and  I  know  exactly 
what  she  meant,  and  also  fully  agree  with  her." 

"  I  suppose  you  are  right." 

"  I  am  sure  I  am  in  this  respect,  my  dear  Le 
Mesurier,  for  it  is  a  subject  on  which  I  have  felt  much 
and  thought  strongly.  People  say  to  you  quite  casu- 
ally, '  So-and-so  is  a  regular  bounder,'  or  '  Mrs.  So- 
and-so  is  a  two-faced  cat,'  or  '  Miss  So-and-so  is  a 
horrid  little  flirt,'  and  then  go  on  their  way  rejoicing, 
only  having  really  meant  that  the  aforesaid  trio  are 
not  particular  friends  of  theirs ;  but  for  the  rest  of 
your  days  you  are  handicapped  by  a  prejudice  against 
the  So-and-sos,  which  it  may  take  years  of  friendli- 
ness to  live  down." 


!go  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  Good  gracious !  I  never  thought  of  the  matter 
in  that  light." 

"  People  very  rarely  do,  or  else  there  would  be 
less  evil  wrought  in  the  world  than  there  is  at  present. 
But  the  worst  mischief-makers  of  all  are  those  who 
have  not  the  pluck  to  say  right  out  the  nasty  things 
they  are  thinking,  and  so  get  behind  a  third  person, 
and  tell  you  what  the  latter  has  said  of  you.  Of 
course  they  pretend  that  the  third  person's  remark 
has  given  them  acute  pain ;  but  you  know  perfectly 
well  all  the  time  that  it  is  the  most  delicious  morsel 
they  have  tasted  for  weeks." 

"  I  have  often  met  people  of  that  sort,"  said  Jack, 
laughing,  "  and"  they  always  look  so  shocked  when 
they  repeat  the  spiteful  speeches." 

"  I  know  they  do.  Isn't  it  sickening?  And  the 
irritating  thing  about  them  is  that  they  feel  righteous 
and  enjoyable  indignation  against  the  folks  who  have 
made  the  nasty  remarks  in  the  first  place,  and  have 
no  idea  that  he  who  invents  a  harmful  lie  is  no  whit 
worse  than  he  who  loves  and  circulates  it." 

"  But,"  Jack  said,  "  you  haven't  told  me  whether 
you  think  I  am  justified  in  keeping  Miss  Harland  to 
her  promise  to  share  my  poverty." 

It  was  characteristic  of  Jack  that  it  never  oc- 
curred to  him  whether  he  were  justified  in  giving  up 
Greystone  for  Ethel's  sake.  He  thought  much  of  his 
duty  to  her — his  duty  to  himself  did  not  enter  into 
his  calculations. 

The  rector  thought  for  a  moment.  "  Yes,  I 
should  say  you  are,"  he  replied.  "  A  woman  is  not 
a  child,  to  have  everything  cut  and  dried  for  her :  she 
has  as  much  right  as  a  man  to  shape  her  own  fate.  I 
think  that  those  men  deserve  hanging  who  lay  all 
the  burdens  of  life  upon  their  womankind ;  but  I  also 


JACK'S   CONFESSION.  jgi 

think  that  those  men  deserve  some  punishment  who 
refuse  to  share  their  burdens  with  a  woman,  if  she 
is  willing  and  anxious  to  share  them.  It  is  absurd  to 
feed  women  entirely  on  sweetmeats,  and  lead  them 
only  along  paths  strewn  with  rose  leaves,  and  then 
to  rail  at  them  because  they  are  no  better  than  spoilt 
children ;  and  yet  that  is  what  many  men,  and  good 
men,  do." 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  you  say  that.  Of  course 
I  want  Ethel  awfully,  and  should  find  everything 
beastly  without  her;  but  all  the  same  I  shouldn't 
like  to  do  anything  to  her  that  wasn't  quite  fair  play. 
And  then  she  has  never  been  accustomed  to  be  well 
off,  so  she  won't  mind  poverty  as  much  as  a  girl  who 
has." 

Mr.  Cartwright  smiled.  He  was  enough  a  man 
of  the  world  to  know  that  it  is  the  women  who  have 
had  much  who  are  content  with  very  little,  because 
they  know  exactly  how  little  the  much  is  worth ; 
while  the  women  who  have  had  nothing  feel  it  is  their 
turn  now  to  get  everything,  and  refuse  to  be  content 
with  less.  But  he  was  also  enough  a  man  of  the 
world  not  to  say  all  that  he  knew,  when  he  thought 
that  his  knowledge  was  not  of  the  kind  to  give  pleas- 
ure to  other  people. 

"  My  dear  fellow,  marry  the  woman  whom  you 
love  and  who  loves  you,"  he  said ;  "  and  remember 
that  love  in  a  cottage  with  a  parlour-maid  is  better 
than  a  butler  and  two  footmen  and  hatred  therewith 
— which  is  the  modern  rendering  of  the  dinner  of 
herbs  and  the  stalled  ox.  Women  are  adaptable 
creatures,  and  dance  to  whatever  tune  we  choose  to 
pipe.  When  we  treat  them  as  spoilt  children  they 
behave  as  spoilt  children,  and  are  extremely  tire- 
some;  when  we  treat  them  as  angels  from  heaven 


1 82  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

they  behave  as  angels  from  heaven,  and  are  only  one 
degree  less  tiresome ;  and  when  we  treat  them  as 
good  women  they  behave  as  good  women,  and  there 
is  nothing  better  this  side  paradise." 

Jack  grasped  the  rector's  hand.  "  Thanks  aw- 
fully," he  muttered.  "  I  shall  never  forget  what  you 
have  said." 

Mr.  Cartwright  was  a  wise  man  as  well  as  a  clever 
one,  and  he  had  learnt  that  when  one's  feelings  get 
to  straining  point  there  is  nothing  so  good  for 
one  as  saving  humour.  Shallow  people  misunder- 
stood this,  and  called  the  rector  flippant ;  but  those 
whose  feelings  went  deep  understood  him  better, 
and  knew  that  his  laughter  was  tenderer  than  many 
men's  tears,  and  that  it  was  because  he  cared  so 
much  that  he  laughed,  and  not  because  he  cared  so 
little. 

"  Come  and  be  presented  to  my  gardener,"  he 
said,  laying  a  friendly  hand  on  the  young  man's 
shoulder  and  leading  him  across  the  garden :  "  his  is 
a  most  interesting  and  instructive  personality.  While 
horticulture  is  his  pastime,  astrology  is  his  profes- 
sion ;  and  he  reads  more  impossible  things  in  the 
stars  than  we  do  in  the  newspapers.  Clutterbuck, 
this  is  Captain  Le  Mesurier,  Sir  Roger's  nephew." 

The  gardener  looked  up  from  his  work  and  leaned 
against  an  old  sun-dial  in  an  attitude  conducive  to 
conversation. 

"  Good  day,  sir,  good  day,  sir,"  responded  Clut- 
terbuck, "  glad  to  make  your  acknowledgment,  I'm 
sure.  Fine  morning,  sir,  very  fine  morning  for  the 
time  of  year,  though  these  antediluvian  frosts  make 
merchandise  among  the  blossoms,  and  no  mistake ; 
but  it  is  the  lot  of  all,  sir,  the  lot  of  all  it  is  to  be  cut 
off  in  their  prime,  and  none  to  hinder  them." 


JACK'S  CONFESSION.  1$$ 

"  This  is  a  very  old  sun-dial,"  remarked  Jack,  by 
way  of  making  conversation. 

"  That  it  is,  sir,"  answered  the  gardener  with  the 
pride  of  possession ;  "  it  is  nigh  on  three  hundred 
years  old ;  and,  what  is  more,  it  tells  the  time  as  well 
as  it  did  the  day  it  was  made.  Rather  different  from 
the  new-fangled  watches  and  clocks  they  make  now- 
adays, which  gain  one  day  and  lose  the  next  and  stop 
on  the  next  altogether.  They  could  make  better 
machinery  three  hundred  years  ago  than  they  can 
now,  to  judge  by  our  sun-dial ;  for  I've  never  known 
it  either  lose  or  gain — let  alone  stop — the  whole  time 
I've  been  here.  Now  that's  a  bit  of  good  machinery 
if  you  like.  It  has  got  some  real  fine  works  in  it, 
our  old  sun-dial  has." 

"  Indeed  it  has,"  agreed  Jack  with  delight. 
"  And  I  dare  say  you  get  a  great  deal  of  sun  here  too, 
to  keep  its  works  in  order." 

But  Clutterbuck  never  allowed  himself  to  be  led 
away  into  enthusiasm.  "  Too  much,  sir ;  sadly  too 
much,  to  my  thinking ;  and  I  know  something  about 
it,  having  worked  in  the  garden,  man  and  boy,  for 
close  on  sixty  years.  But  what  are  you  to  do?  One 
man  wants  rain,  and  another  wants  sun,  and  another 
wants  wind  ;  and  if  everybody  had  what  they  wanted, 
we  should  soon  have  no  weather  at  all." 

"  I  suppose  rain  is  now  wanted  badly,"  agreed 
Jack,  repressing  a  smile. 

"  Rain  is  wanted,  sir,  and  rain  we'll  have.  You 
see,  sir,  saving  your  presence,  Mars  and  Saturn  are  in 
conjunction ;  and  when  Mars  and  Saturn  are  in  con- 
junction there's  always  floods  and  wars  and  deluges. 
The  year  came  in  with  Neptune  in  the  ascendant; 
and  when  that  happens  there  are  always  misfortunes 
by  water,  such  as  wars  or  tempests  or  the  end  of  the 


1 84  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

world  or  the  disestablishment  of  the  Church.  The 
last  time  the  year  came  in  with  Neptune  in  the  as- 
cendant, there  was  a  persecution  of  the  Jews;  and 
the  time  before  that,  Lord  Nelson  was  killed  at  Tra- 
falgar ;  and  what  the  misfortune  will  be  this  year  only 
Providence  knows,  but  it  will  be  something  tremen- 
jous,  whoever  lives  to  see  it." 

And  Clutterbuck  fairly  smacked  his  lips  over  the 
prospect  of  the  coming  disaster. 

"  Let  us  hope  it  will  not  be  as  dreadful  as  you  ex- 
pect, Clutterbuck,"  the  rector  remarked. 

But  Clutterbuck  was  not  going  to  be  disappointed 
of  his  hopes  in  that  manner. 

"  What  the  stars  say,  that  the  stars  stick  to,  sir ; 
and  them  that  begins  to  argufy  and  make  havoc 
among  the  planets  will  get  their  fingers  burnt  sooner 
or  later.  There  has  been  naught  but  misfortunes 
this  year  up  to  now ;  and  naught  but  misfortunes 
there  will  be  till  the  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter. 
First,  the  schools  had  to  be  closed  because  of 
measles  ;  then  the  concert  of  Europe  came  across  one 
another  and  there  was  wars ;  then  Mrs.  Higginson's 
pig  died  of  swine  fever ;  then  there  was  a  Parliamen- 
tary election  in  this  part  of  the  county,  owing  to  Mr. 
Fulford  being  made  into  a  lordship,  and  a  Radical 
got  in  in  his  place ;  then  my  missis  sprained  her 
thumb  with  the  rolling-pin  ;  and  now  them  continual 
frosses  is  turning  the  pear-blossom  into  so  much 
waste-paper,  as  the  saying  is ;  and  yet,  sir,  you  can 
look  me  in  the  face  and  say  that  the  planets  is  agree- 
able to  us  just  at  present!  "  And  Clutterbuck  gazed 
at  his  master  with  sad  and  reproachful  eyes,  as  at  one 
incapable  of  reading  the  signs  of  the  times. 

"  There'll  be  disasters  this  year,"  he  continued, 
shaking  his  head  with  solemn  joy,  "  great  and  ter- 


JACK'S  CONFESSION.  jgj 

rible  disasters.  My  only  fear  is  that  we  sha'n't  live 
to  see  them.  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  so  many 
misfortunes  happening  before  May  was  out  didn't 
foretell  the  end  of  the  world ;  but  no  man  can  say 
for  certain,  for  the  end  of  the  world  always  comes 
sudden-like  as  it  were,  and  when  it's  least  expected,  so 
as  to  be  all  the  more  of  a  warning  to  them  that's  friv- 
olous-minded, and  to  take  them  by  surprise." 

"  Clutterbuck  is  a  great  authority  on  all  matters 
connected  with  the  stars  and  the  weather,"  said  Clut- 
terbuck's  master ;  "  and  quite  a  prophet  in  his 
way." 

The  old  man  waved  his  spade  in  a  deprecatory 
manner.  "  I  dunno  about  me  being  a  prophet,  sir ; 
all  I  can  do  is  to  read  the  future  by  the  help  of  the 
planets,"  he  remarked  modestly,  as  if  reading  the 
planets  was  an  accomplishment  taught  in  the  ele- 
mentary schools,  and  therefore  nothing  to  be  proud 
of ;  "  but  then  I  do  consult  them  on  all  matters,  and 
they  never  deceives  me.  Now  my  brother  William 
was  born  under  the  influence  of  Mars  ;  and  I  told  him 
it  was  his  bounden  duty  to  wed  a  woman  born  under 
the  influence  of  Venus,  or  else  there'd  be  no  happi- 
ness for  neither  of  them.  But  William  was  an  obsti- 
nate lad  and  would  go  his  own  way,  and  he  married  a 
girl  that  had  been  born  when  Saturn  was  in  the  as- 
cendant. And  what  was  the  consequences  of  that 
regardless  act  of  his?  Why,  when  her  father  died,  it 
was  found  that  he'd  left  all  his  savings — some  two 
hundred  pounds  or  so — to  his  son,  and  not  a  penny 
to  either  of  his  daughters.  '  William,'  I  says,  '  it 
serves  you  right,  and  let  it  be  a  warning  to  you  never 
to  marry  a  woman  belonging  to  a  wrong  planet  in 
the  future/  Which  he  hasn't  done  again  so  far,  I 
must  allow ;  but  that,  I  fancy,  is  more  owing  to  his 
13 


1 86  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

first  wife's  being  still  living,  than  from  any  respect 
he  felt  for  my  words." 

"  Then  were  you  equally  careful  in  your  own 
choice  of  a  wife  ?  "  asked  Jack. 

"  Certainly,  sir,  and  by  all  means.  And  I've 
chosen  my  second,  too,  with  equal  care." 

"  I  didn't  know  that  Mrs.  Clutterbuck  was  your 
second  wife,"  the  rector  said. 

"  No  more  she  is,  sir,  no  more  she  is.  But  I  says 
to  her  one  day,  '  Mary  Ann,'  I  says,  '  maybe  when  the 
time  comes  for  you  to  be  took,  I  sha'n't  be  as  hale 
and  hearty  as  I  am  now,  nor  have  all  my  wits  about 
me,  so  I'd  better  choose  her  as  is  to  precede  you  now 
that  I'm  clothed  and  in  my  right  mind,  as  the  saying 
is.'  And  Mary  Ann  saw  the  purpose  of  this,  as  any 
right-thinking  woman  would ;  for  she  know'd  when 
I  was  all  in  an  upset  with  losing  her,  and  busy  with 
the  funeral,  I  should  be  in  no  fit  state  to  choose  a 
suitable  wife,  and  so  might  make  a  mistake,  being 
in  a  hurry  as  it  were  to  get  comfortable  and  settled 
again  as  soon  as  possible." 

The  rector  looked  quite  serious,  which  did  him 
credit.  "  Of  course,  Clutterbuck ;  a  very  sensible 
suggestion  on  your  part,  showing  great  forethought. 
And  pray  what  did  Mrs.  Clutterbuck  say  to  the 
arrangement  ?  " 

"  Well,  sir,  she  see'd  the  jest  of  it  just  as  you  do ; 
and  she  said  she'd  give  me  a  helping  hand  in  looking 
round,  as  it  were ;  because  women  can  see  through 
each  other  with  half  an  eye,  as  you  may  say,  while 
they  take  us  in  like  one  o'clock,  even  when  we  devote 
all  our  attention  to  their  tricks.  And  I've  every  con- 
fidence in  Mary  Ann's  judgment.  At  last  she  says 
to  me,  '  Clutterbuck/  she  says,  '  there's  nobody  as 
would  look  after  my  furniture  as  well  as  Sarah  Maria 


JACK'S  CONFESSION.  jg; 

Stacey ;  but  if  you've  any  objection  to  her,  say  the 
word,  and  I'll  never  mention  her  name  to  you  again.' 
'  Mary  Ann/  I  says, '  you  are  a  woman  in  a  thousand ; 
Sarah  Maria  is  not  what  you'd  call  handsome,  maybe, 
but  we  are  all  as  Providence  made  us,  and  I'm  not 
the  one  to  go  throwing  any  woman's  face  in  her 
teeth ;  and,  as  you  say,  she'd  leave  the  furniture  bet- 
ter than  she  found  it.  If  the  planets  are  harmonious 
— mine  and  Sarah  Maria's  that  is  to  say — Sarah 
Maria  shall  be  the  one.'  And  so  I  fixed  upon  Sarah 
Maria ;  and  Sarah  Maria  it  shall  be  when  the  time 
comes." 

That  he  himself  might  predecease  the  regnant 
Mrs.  Clutterbuck  never  apparently  occurred  to  the 
rector's  gardener:  place  aux  dames  was  his  motto  in 
this  case,  and  he  stuck  to  it. 

"  Apparently  a  most  suitable  appointment,"  re- 
marked Mr.  Cartwright. 

Clutterbuck  shook  his  head  sorrowfully.  "  Ay, 
sir,  man  app'ints ;  but  there's  One  above  as  disap- 
p'ints." 

And  his  master  added  with  a  whimsical  smile,  "  I 
too  have  learnt  that — by  experience." 

"  Ay,  ay,"  continued  Clutterbuck,  "  Mary  Ann's 
been  very  obliging  over  the  whole  matter;  for  as 
soon  as  I'd  consulted  the  stars  and  it  was  settled,  she 
invited  Sarah  Maria  up  to  our  place  and  told  her  how 
I  liked  my  bacon  broiled  and  what  sort  of  a  poultice 
soothed  my  rheumatics,  so  that  she'd  know  my  ways 
when  the  time  came,  and  not  be  working  in  the  dark 
as  it  were,  and  putting  me  about  with  her  foolish- 
ness." 

"  Behold  the  superiority  of  the  sex  to  us !  "  ex- 
claimed Mr.  Cartwright.  "  Henry  V.  tries  the  crown 
on,  and  there  is  a  row,  and  Henry  IV.  makes  things 


1 88  A  DOUBLE   THREAD. 

generally  unpleasant  instead  of  kindly  showing  his 
son  where  the  machine  wants  enlarging  and  where 
taking  in ;  for  surely  nobody  knows  where  the  crown 
pinches  as  well  as  he  who  wears  it.  Then,  on  the 
other  hand,  Miss  Stacey  tries  the  crown  on  and  Mrs. 
Clutterbuck  points  out  to  her  how  to  ease  it  in  the 
wear,  so  as  to  make  it  the  more  comfortable  to  her- 
self and  Mr.  Clutterbuck.  Surely  Wisdom  makes  her 
abode  with  Women,  and  dwells  amidst  the  feminine 
portion  of  the  community !  " 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

WHAT    ELFRIDA   SAID. 

"  Some  folks  are  like  a  mirror  fair : 
No  ruffles  on  the  surface  there 
But  all  in  perfect  order; 
Their  presence  seems  to  fill  a  place 
With  light  and  cheerfulness  and  grace 
And  peace  within  the  border." 

ACCORDING  to  that  universal  rule  whereby  when 
we  hear  of  any  special  thing  or  person  for  the  first 
time  we  hear  of  it  or  him  again  immediately,  Mr. 
Cartwright  ran  up  to  town  for  a  dinner-party  at  the 
Silverhamptons'  the  day  after  Jack's  visit  to  Grey- 
stone,  and  was  appointed  to  take  Elfrida  Harland 
down  to  dinner. 

Jack  was  too  much  of  a  gentleman  to  have  told 
the  rector  of  Elfrida's  love  for  him,  though  he  had 
made  no  secret  of  his  uncle's  wish  that  he  should 
marry  the  late  Lord  Harland's  heiress  ;  but  Mr.  Cart- 
wright  found  it  out  at  once  through  Elfrida's  studied 
indifference  when  he  mentioned  Captain  Le  Mesu- 
rier's  name  as  that  of  a  common  acquaintance.  It 
is  against  nature  to  be  indifferent  at  the  mention  of  a 
familiar  third  person  when  one  is  talking  to  a  stran- 
ger, as  such  third  persons  are  the  very  foundation 
stones  of  Society's  temple;  therefore,  when  such 

189 


IQO  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

indifference  is  openly  shown,  it  is  safe  to  conclude 
that  the  stranger  whom  one  is  addressing  is  either 
in  love  with  the  third  person  or  else  owes  him 
money.  Which  of  these  two  alternatives  happens 
to  be  the  correct  one  can  only  be  discovered  by  means 
of  the  context. 

But  Philip  Cartwright  was  not  to  be  rebuffed  by 
Miss  Harland's  coldness.  "  I  am  so  glad  that  you 
know  Captain  Le  Mesurier,"  he  said;  "  it  is  so  much 
easier  to  get  on  with  people  after  the  discovery  of  a 
common  acquaintance." 

"  Yes ;  isn't  it  ?  And  we  are  so  lucky  to  have 
found  out  our  common  acquaintance  before  our  soup 
is  cold.  I  am  always  sure  that  the  man  who  takes 
me  in  to  dinner  knows  somebody  that  I  do ;  but  as  a 
rule  we  are  lost  in  the  mazes  of  the  second  entree  be- 
fore we  discover  who  it  is." 

"  We  are  not  only  lucky  in  having  so  soon  hit 
upon  a  common  acquaintance,  but  we  are  still  more 
fortunate  in  having  so  pleasant  an  acquaintance  in 
common.  I  have  the  greatest  respect  and  liking  for 
Captain  Le  Mesurier,  for  I  do  not  think  I  ever  met  a 
straighter  man,  or  one  with  less  humbug  about  him. 
I  cannot  stand  humbug,  can  you?" 

"  Oh  dear !  yes ;  in  fact,  I  rather  like  it,"  replied 
Elfrida,  who  happened  to  be  in  a  contradictious 
mood ;  "  humbugs  are  generally  so  polite,  and  pre- 
tend that  they  are  being  taken  in  by  you,  because  they 
want  you  to  be  really  taken  in  by  them.  I  cannot  en- 
dure the  people  whom  I  can't  take  in :  they  make  me 
feel  all  thin  and  transparent,  as  if  I  were  made  of 
tracing-paper  or  plate-glass." 

"  But  I  think  that  is  a  most  comfortable  feeling. 
It  is  a  true  proverb  that  to  comprehend  all  is  to  for- 
give all ;  and  I  am  sure  that  if  we  could  all  see  each 


WHAT   ELFRIDA   SAID.  igi 

other  as  we  really  are,  there  would  be  much  more 
affection  in  the  world  than  there  is  at  present.  Be- 
sides, if  we  were  made  of  tracing-paper  or  plate- 
glass,  there  would  no  longer  be  any  need  for  ex- 
planation ;  and  explanation  is,  to  my  mind,  the  one 
insupportable  thing  in  life." 

"  Apology  being  the  other,"  added  Elfrida.  "  In 
my  opinion  the  people  who  explain  and  the  people 
who  apologize  ought  to  be  hung  up  on  gibbets  at 
four  cross-roads ;  for  explanations  always  increase  a 
difficulty,  just  as  apologies  invariably  heighten  an 
offence." 

"  There,  you  see,  you  really  agree  with  me ;  for 
apology  is  either  a  meaningless  habit  on  trie  part  of 
timid,  deprecating  persons,  who  are  so  busy  effacing 
themselves  that  they  have  no  time  to  attend  to  other 
people ;  or  else  it  is  merely  a  form  of  humbug.  If 
we  really  felt  friendly  towards  people,  we  shouldn't 
be  rude  to  them ;  and  if  we  haven't  been  rude  to 
them,  what  is  there  to  apologize  about  ?  " 

"  An  apology  means  that  we  know  that  we  have 
been  rude  to  them,  but  we  hope  they  don't." 

"  Exactly ;  and  that  is  humbug,"  said  Mr.  Cart- 
wright.  "  Then  there  is  that  other  form  of  humbug 
called  affectation.  Surely  you  cannot  defend  that." 

"  No ;  that  is  bad,  I  admit,  and  most  especially 
that  form  of  it  which  is  ashamed  of  the  truth  because 
it  doesn't  consider  the  truth  '  genteel.'  Take  fussy 
old  maids,  for  instance,  who  think  it  vulgar  to  call  a 
spade  a  spade,  and  so  dub  it  a  teaspoon ;  and  snobs, 
who  are  ashamed  of  the  spades  with  which  their 
fathers  dug,  and  call  them  presentation  trowels." 

"  All  the  same,"  Philip  said  gently,  "  I  think  I  am 
a  little  sorry  for  the  people  who  go  through  life  try- 
ing to  make  their  world  believe  that  all  their  spades 


1 92  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

are  either  silver  teaspoons  or  presentation  trowels ; 
it  is  uphill  work.  It  means  that  they  are  ashamed 
of  their  antecedents,  and  want  to  sponge  them  out; 
and  antecedents  take  an  unconscionable  lot  of  spong- 
ing." 

"  But  I  despise  people  who  are  ashamed  of  their 
antecedents." 

"  I  never  said  they  were  not  despicable ;  I  only 
said  they  were  a  little  pitiable  as  well." 

Elfrida  shook  her  head.  "  I  cannot  pity  them, 
they  are  so  intrinsically  vulgar.  I  presume  there  are 
spades  in  most  families  shut  up  in  cupboards  along 
with  the  family  skeletons.  A  gentleman  shows  you 
his  spade,  still  begrimed  with  honest  soil,  and  tells 
you  that  therewith  his  grandfather  dug  and  found  a 
fortune.  A  snob  has  his  spade  electro-plated,  and 
tells  you  that  it  was  presented  to  his  grandfather  for 
laying  some  hypothetical  municipal  stone." 

"  Your  illustration  is  most  happy.  As  you  say, 
no  man  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  anything  but  of  be- 
ing ashamed." 

"  You  see  there  is  hardly  anything  vulgar  in  it- 
self; it  is  only  vulgar  when  it  pretends  to  be  any- 
thing else.  It  isn't  vulgar  to  keep  a  carriage,  and 
it  isn't  vulgar  not  to  keep  a  carriage ;  but  it  is  ter- 
ribly vulgar  to  talk  about  one's  carriage  while  one 
is  shaking  the  straw  of  the  humble  four-wheeler  off 
one's  feet." 

"  But  all  affectations  are  not  vulgar,"  argued  Mr. 
Cartwright ;  "  as,  for  instance,  the  sort  you  illus- 
trated by  calling  a  spade  a  teaspoon.  It  may  be  silly 
and  sentimental  and  tiresome,  but  it  is  not  in  the  least 
vulgar;  in  fact  it  errs  on  the  opposite  side,  and  is 
over-refined." 

"  I  hate  it." 


WHAT   ELFRIDA   SAID. 


193 


"  I  don't.  It  is  a  type  of  affectation  which  be- 
longed to  the  last  generation,  and  has  now  practi- 
cally ceased  to  exist.  Of  course,  it  was  foolish  ;  but  I 
don't  think  it  was  half  as  bad  as  the  modern  affecta- 
tion of  naturalness,  which  not  only  calls  a  spade  a 
spade  when  necessary,  but  is  always  dragging  spades 
into  the  conversation.  I  am  sure  in  these  days  of  un- 
reserve, when  women  spend  their  lives  in  studying 
the  art  of  being  natural,  one  yearns  sometimes  for 
the  old-fashioned  mincers  who  fainted  at  an  offer  and 
screamed  at  a  mouse.  After  all,  they  knew  that  they 
were  being  affected ;  a  fact  of  which  the  New  Wom- 
an seems  to  be  unconscious." 

"  Then  does  knowing  of  a  thing  make  it  any  the 
less  hideous?  " 

Mr.  Cartwright  smiled.  "  At  any  rate,  it  pre- 
cludes self-deception." 

"  Well,  it  does ;  that's  true.  Just  as  the  people 
with  no  hot-water  pipes  in  their  houses,  know  that 
their  rooms  are  cold,  and  so  have  big  fires ;  and  the 
people  who  have  pipes  crawling  along  their  passages 
like  warm  snakes,  generally  think  they  can  do  with- 
out a  fire,  and  then  forget  to  turn  the  hot  water  on, 
and  so  freeze  their  friends  to  death." 

"  Precisely.  It  is  something  to  know  the  truth, 
even  if  one  has  not  the  courage  to  preach  it." 

"  Nevertheless,"  persisted  Elfrida,  "  I  prefer  mod- 
ern affectations  to  antique  ones,  just  as  I  prefer  a 
toupe  to  an  old-fashioned  front.  Nowadays  women 
wear  loupes  to  make  themselves  look  young,  and  their 
grandmothers  wore  fronts  to  make  themselves  look 
old — equally  reprehensible  tricks  in  the  eye  of  the 
realist.  Though  a  toupe  may  be  false,  it  is  still  fair, 
and  presumably  makes  the  wearer  better-looking; 
but  miniature  window-curtains  of  snuff-coloured 


194 


A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 


horsehair,  attached  to  a  cornice  of  black  velvet,  could 
never  have  been  a  becoming  setting  for  '  the  human 
face  divine.'  Now  could  they  ?  " 

"  Please  don't  ask  me :  such  things  are  too  high 
for  my  poor  masculine  intelligence.  But  of  all  forms 
of  affectation  the  one  that  I  least  comprehend  is  an 
insane  habit  some  really  excellent  persons  have  of 
pretending  that  they  are  much  worse  than  they  real- 
ly are.  Doesn't  it  puzzle  you  when  you  come 
across  it  ?  " 

Elfrida  nodded  acquiescence,  although  she  ha- 
bitually fell  into  that  same  snare  herself.  "  Awfully. 
Shakespeare  told  us  to  assume  a  virtue  if  we  had  it 
not,  and  he  was  an  old  humbug  for  suggesting  such 
a  course,  though  a  wise  old  humbug ;  but  to  assume 
a  vice  when  we  have  it  not,  appears  to  me  to  be 
idiotic.  Yet  scores  of  people  do  it.  Good  creatures, 
who  were  made  to  be  the  pillar  of  a  sewing-meeting, 
will  tell  you  they  adore  pleasure  and  hate  children, 
and  have  all  the  vices  of  the  professional  beauty ; 
while  conscientious  souls,  who  wouldn't  miss  a  week- 
evening  service  to  save  their  lives,  will  shake  a  meat- 
tea-party  to  its  foundations  with  the  jargon  of  the 
professed  atheist.  It  is  very  funny." 

"  And  very  sad,  too,  for  it  hinders  people  from 
winning  the  amount  of  affection  which  is  their  due ; 
and  our  happiness  in  this  world  is  pretty  fairly  meas- 
ured by  the  amount  of  affection  which  we  receive." 

"  Mr.  Cartwright,"  interrupted  Lady  Silverhamp- 
ton,  who  was  sitting  on  the  rector's  other  side,  "  we 
are  halfway  through  dinner — my  dinner,  you'll  no- 
tice— and  you  haven't  spoken  to  me  once ;  and  there 
is  the  man  at  Miss  Harland's  right  hand  looking  as 
if  he  wanted  to  choke  you.  You  really  must  behave 
better  than  this,  or  I  sha'n't  ask  you  to  dinner  again. 


WHAT    ELFRIDA   SAID. 


195 


I  put  you  next  to  me  because  I  had  to  let  Lord  Sal- 
tyre  take  me  in,  as  he  is  the  biggest  swell  here;  but 
he  is  too  learned  and  clever  for  me  altogether,  and  I 
told  Silverhampton  I  must  have  an  antidote  on  the 
other  side,  or  else  I  should  have  brain-fever  by  the 
time  we  got  to  the  sweets.  And  this  is  how  my 
antidote  behaves !  " 

"  I  am  so  sorry  to  have  made  such  a  poor  return 
for  so  great  a  compliment ;  but  I  will  refrain  from 
apologizing,  as  Miss  Harland  and  I  have  just  decided 
that  we  disapprove  of  apologies  on  principle." 

"  And  quite  right ;  they  are  stupid  things,  I  think. 
I  never  apologized  in  my  life,  because  I  never  did 
anything  I  was  sorry  for.  I  don't  do  a  thing  unless 
I  want  to  do  it ;  and  if  I  wanted  to  do  it  I  can't  be 
sorry  for  having  done  what  I  wanted,  can  I?  No- 
body could." 

Mr.  Cartwright  smiled.  "  I  am  afraid  they  can 
be,  and  are." 

"  Well,  I  haven't  the  strength  left  to  argue,  but  I 
know  I  am  right.  You  wouldn't  have  the  strength 
left  to  argue  if  you'd  been  talking  to  old  Saltyre  all 
this  time  instead  of  to  Elfrida  Harland.  You 
needn't  be  afraid  he'll  hear,"  her  ladyship  added,  as 
Philip  glanced  anxiously  towards  the  peer  under  dis- 
cussion ;  "  he  is  deaf  on  this  side,  as  I  know  to  my 
cost.  I  simply  yelled  into  his  ear  one  of  my  best 
stories  about  a  collection  at  Grasslands  church ;  and 
when  I  had  finished,  instead  of  laughing,  he  asked, 
'  And  who  won  the  election,  did  you  say  ?  '  I  could 
have  flung  the  salt-cellar  in  his  face,  I  felt  so  furious." 

"  It  certainly  was  trying  for  you." 

"  But  that  wasn't  the  worst.  He  would  tell  me 
all  about  some  schools  he'd  built  on  his  estate,  to 
teach  somebody  to  do  something — I  forget  what — 


196  A  DOUBLE   THREAD. 

till  I  wished  it  was  me  that  was  deaf  instead  of  him. 
He  is  the  most  awful  man  for  statistics.  If  once  he 
is  started,  he'll  tell  you  exactly  how  many  pins  a 
South  Sea  Islander  swallows  in  a  year,  and  how 
many  children  are  eaten  by  tigers  on  the  Tottenham 
Court  Road,  and  how  many  bishops  a  dissenting- 
chapel  will  hold,  till  your  head  fairly  spins.  It  is  go- 
ing in  to  dinner  with  men  such  as  this  that  makes  a 
woman  old  before  her  time !  " 

"  I  must  congratulate  myself  on  being  much  more 
fortunate  than  my  hostess,"  said  Mr.  Cartwright ; 
"  for  I  have  enjoyed  sitting  next  to  Miss  Harland  as 
much  as  you  have  not  enjoyed  sitting  next  to  Lord 
Saltyre." 

"  I  am  so  glad ;  isn't  she  a  delightful  girl  ?  " 

"  I  think  she  is  perfectly  charming.  She  is  a 
great  beauty  and  a  great  heiress,  and  yet  she  is  as 
easy  to  get  on  with  as  if  she  were  neither,"  the  rector 
answered,  having  first  made  sure  that  Elfrida  was 
sufficiently  engaged  in  talking  to  her  right-hand 
neighbour  not  to  hear  what  he  said. 

"  No,  you  are  out  of  it  there ;  she  isn't  as  easy 
to  get  on  with  as  if  she  were  not  a  great  heiress.  I 
don't  mean  that  she  gives  herself  airs  on  account  of 
her  fortune ;  there  isn't  the  slightest  bit  of  money- 
rubbish  about  Elfrida;  but  so  many  men  have 
wanted  her  for  the  sake  of  her  fortune,  that  she  has 
ceased  to  believe  that  any  one  could  care  for  her  for 
her  own  sake." 

"  But  how  absurd !  And  when  she  is  so  nice, 
too!" 

"  It's  perfectly  idiotic  of  her,  I  know ;  but  that  is 
how  she  feels,  and  it  has  made  her  grow  bitter  and 
cynical  and  sarcastic.  Now  I  should  never  have  felt 
like  that,  however  rich  I  might  have  been :  I  should 


WHAT   ELFRIDA   SAID. 


197 


always  have  been  sure  that  Silverhampton  loved  me 
for  the  pure  and  simple  reason  that  I  was  the  very 
opposite  of  his  mother,  quite  apart  from  any  pe- 
cuniary considerations.  I  say,  you  knew  old  Lady 
Silverhampton,  didn't  you  ?  Wasn't  she  awful  ?  " 

"  She  certainly  was  a  very  terrific  old  lady," 
agreed  the  rector. 

"  She  always  considered  me  a  most  disgraceful 
character,  because  I  wouldn't  come  down  in  a  morn- 
ing before  the  housemaids  had  lighted  the  fires,  and 
because  I  never  went  to  sleep  on  a  Sunday  after- 
noon." 

"  I  can  sympathize  with  you,  Lady  Silverhamp- 
ton ;  for  she  once  lectured  me  before  a  whole  room- 
ful of  people  for  not  propounding  the  doctrines  of 
Calvin.  She  said  I  was  '  loose,'  whatever  that  may 
mean." 

"  Oh  dear!  oh  dear!  There  is  that  tiresome  old 
Lord  Saltyre  turning  a  deaf  ear  to  me,  and  I  must 
fulfil  my  duties  as  a  hostess  and  pour  something  into 
it.  What  shall  I  talk  to  him  about?  I  know  what- 
ever things  I  mention,  he  will  tell  me  how  they  are 
made ;  and  I  do  so  hate  to  know  how  things  are 
made,  don't  you?  I  remember  once  seeing  how 
chocolate  and  felt-hats  were  made  at  some  exhibi- 
tion— the  Healtheries  or  the  Wealtheries  or  some- 
thing— and  I  have  loathed  chocolate  and  felt-hats 
ever  since.  I'll  ask  him  how  fortunes  are  made — 
that'll  be  worth  knowing,  won't  it?  So  here  goes. 
Lord  Saltyre,  Mr.  Cartwright  and  I  want  to  know 
if  you  can  tell  us  how  fortunes  are  made  ?  " 

"  How  what  are  made,  Lady  Silverhampton?  I 
did  not  quite  catch  what  you  said." 

"  Fortunes — fortunes  :  things  that  you  marry  for 
and  then  are  disappointed  in,  don't  you  know  ?  " 


198  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  How  fortunes  are  made?  Ah!  that  is  a  large 
question.  They  are  made,  of  course,  in  three  ways 
— by  labour,  by  commerce,  and  by  accumulation." 
("  I  told  you  he'd  have  an  answer  ready,  and  a  dull 
one,"  whispered  Lady  Silverhampton  to  Philip ;  "  he 
always  does.")  "  Those  of  course  do  not  include 
such  fortunes  as  are  inherited,  and  which,  I  should 
say,  form  the  bulk  of  property  in  this  country.  It 
would  be  interesting  to  find  out  which  of  these  three 
include  the  largest  number.  I  should  be  inclined 
to  say  that  money  which  accumulates  increases  more 
rapidly  than  money  gained  in  any  other  way ;  though 
it  is  a  nice  point  whether  you  can  consider  an  un- 
earned increment  as  money  that  is  made.  I  should 
be  inclined  to  say  not." 

Then  Elfrida  turned  to  Mr.  Cartwright  with  a 
question :  "  Do  you  really  think  the  most  popular 
people  are  the  happiest  people  ?  "  She  had  been 
thinking  over  his  last  remark  all  through  her  conver- 
sation with  her  right-hand  neighbour ;  consequently 
this  latter  was  not  without  justification  for  his  in- 
ward comment  that  it  was  a  pity  that  good-looking 
women  were  frequently  so  uninteresting  to  talk  to. 

"  Roughly  speaking,  yes,"  replied  the  rector. 

"  But  the  question  is  whether  the  popular  person 
is  nascitur  or  fit,"  said  Elfrida  thoughtfully. 

"  Dr.  Johnson  said  that  '  genius  is  an  infinite  ca- 
pacity for  taking  pains ' :  I  think  the  same  remark 
applies  to  popularity." 

"  A  more  modern  writer  than  Dr.  Johnson  says 
that  '  genius  is  an  infinite  capacity  for  doing  things 
without  taking  pains  ' ;  and  I  should  say  rather  that 
popularity  is  like  that." 

"  As  a  matter  of  fact,"  Philip  remarked,  "  I  think 
that  both  these  descriptions  apply  to  popularity, 


WHAT   ELFRIDA   SAID. 


I99 


though  I  am  bound  to  confess  that  your  anonymous 
friend  was  nearer  the  mark  with  regard  to  genius 
than  was  the  worthy  doctor.  I  once  heard  a  very 
brilliant  woman  say  that  genius  knows  by  intuition 
what  ordinary  human  nature  has  to  learn  by  ex- 
perience." 

Elfrida  laughed.  "  Now  I  should  define  that  as 
the  difference  between  a  man  and  a  woman :  a  man 
knows  everything  that  is  in  books,  and  a  woman 
knows  everything  that  isn't." 

"  It  is  a  good  thing  that  she  does ;  for,  as  far  as 
I  can  make  out,  no  woman  is  capable  of  learning 
anything  from  experience." 

"  That  is  true  enough.  I  am  absolutely  innocent 
of  Applied  Mathematics  or  of  the  date  of  the  Second 
Punic  War ;  but  I  know  to  a  teaspoonful  how  much 
contradiction  a  man  can  bear  without  losing  his  tem- 
per, and  the  psychological  moment  when  a  lady  of 
fashion  should  put  on  the  old  woman,  and  take  to 
violet-powder  and  amiability,  in  place  of  soap-and- 
water  and  caprice." 

"  Then,  if  you  know  all  that,  you  ought  to  know 
whether  popularity — alias  happiness; — is  an  acquired 
art  or  a  natural  gift." 

"  I  should  say  a  natural  gift,"  replied  Elfrida, 
"  like  everything  else  that  is  worth  having." 

"  And  I  should  say  an  acquired  art,  founded  upon 
the  one  great  gift  which  lies  at  the  root  of  so  many 
Christian  and  social  virtues — namely,  the  power  of 
putting  oneself  in  another  person's  place." 

"  That  is  sympathy." 

Philip  Cartwright  smiled.  "  Pardon  me,  it  is 
something  infinitely  greater;  it  is  the  very  essence 
of  love  and  of  friendship." 

"  It  appears  to  me  that  friendship  is  nothing  but 


20O  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

an  immense  capacity  for  not  being  bored,  and  love 
is  an  infinite  capacity  for  not  being  bored.  That  is 
all  that  they  really  amount  to,  if  you  strip  them 
of  sentiment  and  resolve  them  into  their  integral 
parts." 

"  My  dear  Miss  Harland,  for  pity's  sake  don't 
begin  resolving  things  into  their  integral  parts.  It 
is  a  most  dangerous  habit,  and  soon  reduces  art  to 
a  mere  paint-box,  love  to  an  attack  of  nerves,  and 
religion  to  a  survival  of  fetichism.  It  is  not  only 
mathematically  inaccurate  in  its  deductions,  it  is  also 
absolutely  untrue." 

Elfrida  laughed,  as  a  woman  generally  does  when 
a  man  reproves  her.  "  I  arn  afraid  that  you  are 
very  sentimental." 

"  Am  I  ?  Well,  there  are  worse  things  than  be- 
ing sentimental ;  and  I  am  thankful  to  say  that  I 
have  no  objection  to  saying  what  I  think  and  show- 
ing what  I  feel,  and  of  generally  being  what  certain 
of  the  Stoics  would  call  '  cheap.'  " 

"  There  I  think  you  are  quite  right :  the  people 
who  are  so  dreadfully  afraid  of  being  too  cheap  are 
in  great  danger  of  failing  to  make  themselves  suffi- 
ciently dear.  But  though  I  also  do  not  object  to 
'  cheapness '  so-called,  I  cannot  help  seeing  that  no- 
body is  without  faults  and  nobody  is  without  virtues  ; 
and  that  the  sensible  man  is  the  man  who  keeps  his 
eyes  fixed  upon  the  virtues  of  his  friends  and  the 
faults  of  his  enemies,  and  who  doesn't  bother  his  head 
about  putting  himself  in  anybody's  place." 

Philip  Cartwright  shook  his  head.  "  You  don't 
really  think  that,  and  you  know  that  you  don't.  It 
is  only  by  putting  oneself  in  another  person's  place 
that  one  learns  how  small  things  affect  him ;  and  in 
reality  every  day  is  a  day  of  small  things." 


WHAT    ELFRIDA   SAID.  2QI 

"  That  is  true.  Great  things  happen  only  once  or 
twice  in  a  lifetime,  while  small  things  are  turning 
up  fifty  times  every  day  before  lunch.  And  small 
things  are  really  the  most  important,  as  you  say ;  for 
I  believe  that  a  man  is  fonder  of  the  woman  who 
laughs  at  his  jokes  (at  the  poor  ones,  I  mean)  than 
of  the  woman  who  worships  his  moral  excellencies 
and  his  intellectual  gifts.  I  know  lots  of  really  good, 
loving,  unselfish  people,  who  sacrifice  themselves  on 
the  shrine  of  friendship,  and  are  always  spending 
and  being  spent  for  their  friends ;  yet  because  they 
have  an  unfortunate  knack  of  saying  the  wrong 
things,  and  of  telling  unflattering  truths,  all  their 
devotion  and  self-sacrifice  counts  for  nothing,  and  no- 
body can  bear  them." 

"  And  on  the  other  hand,"  added  Mr.  Cartwright, 
"  the  good-tempered,  easy,  selfish  people,  who  never 
put  themselves  out  of  their  way  to  oblige  anybody, 
and  yet  have  a  trick  of  making  flattering  little 
speeches  and  doing  pleasant  little  things  which  give 
them  no  trouble,  are  adored  by  all  who  know  them, 
and  earn  more  gratitude  in  a  week  than  the  others 
earn  in  a  lifetime." 

"It  seems  hard  and  unjust,  doesn't  it?"  said 
Elfrida. 

"  It  is  neither  one  nor  the  other,"  replied  the 
rector ;  "  if  the  unselfish  people  took  as  much  trou- 
ble to  be  pleasant  as  the  selfish  ones  do,  they  would 
be  far  the  more  popular  of  the  two ;  but  they  are  too 
proud  to  stoop  to  small  things,  and  so  are  deservedly 
punished.  When  they  are  asked  to  do  some  great 
thing,  they  are  ready  and  willing  to  comply;  but 
they  are  so  busy  thinking  of  their  deep  Abanas  and 
Pharpars  that  they  have  not  patience  to  trouble  them- 
selves about  those  small  streams  of  Jordan  which 
14 


2O2  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

make  glad  the  commonplace  lives  of  commonplace 
people." 

"  Then  I  am  right  after  all,  and  popularity  is  not 
an  acquired  art ;  for  the  people  who  attend  to  small 
things  are  the  tactful  people,  and  tact  is  certainly  a 
natural  gift." 

"  Excuse  me,  Miss  Harland,  it  is  I  who  am  right 
after  all.  Tact  can  be — and  ought  to  be — acquired ; 
though,  like  amiability  or  generosity  or  any  other 
virtue,  some  people  are  naturally  more  largely  en- 
dowed with  it  than  others.  The  cleanliness  of  the 
inside  of  the  cup  and  platter  does  not  obviate  the 
necessity  of  washing  the  outside  as  well ;  and  tact 
is  merely  the  outward  form  of  that  inward  grace  we 
call  unselfishness." 

"  Then  how  would  you  train  people  to  be  tact- 
ful?" 

"  I  would  teach  them  moral  perspective — that  is 
to  say,  the  power  of  looking  at  things  from  another 
person's  point  of  view,  whereby  they  will  learn  to 
see  stones  of  stumbling  and  rocks  of  offence,  which 
otherwise  would  have  been  hid  from  them ;  and,  see- 
ing, to  avoid  the  same." 

It  was  a  very  long  dinner.  There  was  every  im- 
aginable delicacy,  except  those  which  happened  to 
be  in  season,  hot ;  and  then  an  encore  of  all  those 
unseasonable  delicacies,  cold.  There  was  iced  fruit 
with  the  boiled  ham,  and  hot  sauce  with  the  ices,  and 
everything  else  that  was  nasty  and  fashionable  and 
unexpected.  But  Miss  Harland  and  her  new  friend 
did  not  mind  the  length  of  the  dinner,  they  got  on 
so  well  together. 

When  at  last  the  beginning  of  the  end,  in  the 
form  of  dessert,  was  upon  the  table,  Mr.  Cartwright 
said :  "  I  suppose  you  are  tired  of  being  told  that  it 


WHAT   ELFRIDA   SAID.  203 

is  very  pleasant  to  sit  next  to  you  at  dinner;  other- 
wise I  should  like  to  state  the  fact." 

"  Oh  dear,  no !  I'm  not.  There  are  three  things 
that  no  one  gets  tired  of  hearing,  however  often  they 
are  repeated;  namely,  the  note  of  the  cuckoo,  the 
fact  that  one  is  a  charming  person,  and  the  informa- 
tion that  it  is  a  fine  day." 

Philip  laughed ;  and  his  laugh  was  delightful,  as 
Elfrida  had  already  discovered.  It  was  the  sort  of 
laughter  that  shakes  a  man  and  makes  the  tears  come 
into  his  eyes ;  not  the  lifeless  ha-ha  of  well-behaved 
persons,  which  has  about  as  much  real  fun  in  it  as  a 
dictionary  has,  and  which  appears  to  be  used  more 
for  the  purposes  of  punctuation  than  as  a  sign  of 
amusement. 

"  You  are  such  a  strong,  cheerful,  refreshing  sort 
of  person,"  Elfrida  added,  rising  from  her  seat  as  the 
hostess  was  "  collecting  eyes,"  "  that  you  remind  me 
of  the  Morning  Song  in  Mendelssohn's  Songs  with- 
out Words.  It  seems  as  if  it  were  always  morning 
with  you." 

And  then  she  gathered  up  her  fan  and  gloves, 
and  swept  out  of  the  room  in  the  procession  of  de- 
parting ladies. 

Philip  smiled,  and  his  smile  was  sorrowful.  "  Al- 
ways morning  with  me,  is  it?"  he  said  to  himself; 
"  perhaps  so.  But  it  is  the  next  morning :  my  day 
is  over." 

From  that  evening  Mr.  Cartwright  felt  the 
strongest  interest  in  both  Jack  and  Elfrida.  In  the 
first  place  they  were  young ;  and  youth  was  always 
a  wonderful  thing  in  Philip's  eyes.  Certainly  ex- 
treme and  enthusiastic  youth  sometimes  bored  him, 
but  that  did  not  make  it  any  the  less  wonderful. 
What  is  more  boring  than  machinery  in  motion  at 


204  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

an  exhibition  ?  Yet  what,  after  all,  is  more  wonder- 
ful than  such  machinery?  The  rector  of  Greystone 
was  still  young  enough  to  remember  that  his  own 
youthfulness  had  never  proved  tiresome  to  him ;  not 
owing  to  any  conceit  on  his  part,  but  to  his  perfect 
comprehension  of  his  own  young  thoughts.  Where- 
by he  had  learnt  that  the  real  reason  why  people 
find  more  excuses  for  their  own  faults  than  for  the 
faults  of  their  neighbours,  is  that  they  know  all  about 
the  one  and  by  no  means  all  about  the  other;  and 
that  therefore,  when  humanity  knows  even  as  it  is 
known,  there  will  be  no  more  severe  judgments,  no 
more  spiteful  criticisms,  but  perfect  knowledge  will 
ensure  perfect  charity. 

In  spite  of  his  forty  odd  years,  and  his  more  than 
forty  odd  sorrows,  Philip  Cartwright  used  to  say 
that  he  had  never  begun  to  grow  old  and  foolish, 
but  was  still  young  and  wise. 

The  day  after  the  dinner-party  Jack  Le  Mesurier 
screwed  up  his  courage  to  the  sticking-point  for 
the  second  time,  and  called  at  the  house  in  Mayfair. 
On  this  occasion  Fate  granted  him  no  remand, 
but  ushered  him  straight  into  Miss  Harland's  pres- 
ence. 

Elfrida,  strange  to  say,  was  extremely  nervous — 
more  nervous  than  she  had  ever  felt  before  during 
the  triumphal  procession  of  her  five-and-twenty 
years.  She  seemed  hardly  the  same  person  as  the 
self-possessed  woman  of  the  world  who  had  ex- 
changed repartees  with  Philip  Cartwright  the  preced- 
ing evening.  Thus  does  love  rival  conscience  in 
making  cowards  of  us  all ;  and  the  metamorphoses 
of  Ovid  are  as  nothing  in  comparison  with  those  of 
Dan  Cupid. 

She  and  Jack  were  frightened  of  each  other;  so, 


WHAT   ELFRIDA   SAID.  205 

both  being  equally  afraid,  the  man  showed  it  the 
least. 

After  they  had  duly  inquired  after  each  other's 
well-being,  and  commented  on  the  weather,  Jack 
said: 

"  I  called  while  you  were  at  Eastbourne,  and  I 
have  come  again  to-day,  to  tell  you  a  piece  of  news 
about  myself:  I  am  engaged  to  be  married  to  your 
sister." 

There  was  a  moment's  pause.  Elfrida's  heart 
beat  so  fast  that  she  thought  it  would  choke  her,  and 
there  was  a  horrible  singing  in  her  ears.  Never  had 
she  loved  Jack  so  well  as  she  did  then,  when  he 
stood  up  like  a  man,  with  a  look  upon  his  face  which 
no  woman  could  mistake,  and  declared  that  the  girl 
he  loved  had  promised  to  marry  him ;  and  she  felt 
a  spasm  of  pity  for  her  sister,  when  she  pictured  the 
cup  of  ordinary  human  happiness  that  might  have 
been  Ethel's  and  yet  now  could  never  be. 

"  I  have  loved  Ethel  ever  since  the  first  time  we 
met,"  Jack  continued  ;  "  and  I  think  I'm  the  luckiest 
fellow  alive  to  have  won  her.  Though  how  she  can 
care  for  such  a  stupid  beggar  as  I  am,  beats  me 
altogether." 

"  Are  you  quite  sure  that  she  does  care  for  you  ?  " 
Elfrida's  voice  was  strained  and  unnatural. 

"  Yes ;  I  don't  deserve  it,  heaven  knows !  But 
she  does." 

."  You  are  fortunate,  Captain  Le  Mesurier,  in  hav- 
ing chosen  a  woman  whom  you  can  believe  in  so 
implicitly,  and  who  you  feel  confident  will  never  de- 
ceive you." 

Jack  looked  up  quickly :  the  sneer  in  Elfrida's 
tone  was  unmistakable. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  he  asked  shortly.     He 


206  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

was  loyal  to  his  heart's  core,  and  he  failed  to  under- 
stand how  any  woman  could  speak  of  her  sister  as 
Elfrida  spoke  of  Ethel.  If  only  he  had  been  so  for- 
tunate as  to  have  a  sister,  he  would  never  have  treated 
her  thus,  he  thought.  But  the  man  who  hopes  to 
understand  a  woman,  is  only  one  degree  less  san- 
guine than  the  woman,  who  hopes  to  understand  a 
man. 

"  Oh !  nothing ;  nothing  at  least  that  I  am  at  lib- 
erty to  explain.  I  was  only  wondering  if  you  would 
ever  forgive  your  dear  Ethel  if  you  did  happen  to 
find  out  that  she  was  not  quite  so  ingenuous  as  you 
had  supposed." 

Miss  Harland  tried  to  speak  lightly;  but  there 
was  an  anxious  eagerness  under  her  banter  which 
she  failed  entirely  to  hide.  She  could  not  help  see- 
ing what  a  tremendous  difference  it  would  make  to 
her  if  Jack  did  refuse  to  forgive  Ethel. 

"  We  will  not  discuss  that,  if  you  please,"  he  said. 

"  So  you  believe  in  her  absolutely  ?  " 

"  Absolutely." 

Elfrida  turned  away  to  hide  the  tears  in  her  eyes. 
"  Then  there  is  nothing  left  to  be  said ;  except  for 
me  to  wish  that  you  may  be  as  happy  as  you  deserve 
to  be,  and  your  wife  more  so." 

Jack's  brow  grew  very  black.  "  Pardon  me,  there 
is  still  this  to  be  said,  that  I  pray  and  beseech  you  to 
put  all  this  foolish  secrecy  aside,  and  to  treat  your 
sister  as  my  future  wife  has  every  right  to  be  treated." 

"  That  is  precisely  what  I  am  unable  to  do."  El- 
frida had  again  assumed  her  mask  of  slightly  bored 
indifference. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Harland,  do  for  once  be  merciful." 

"  There  is  no  question  of  mercifulness  in  the 
matter." 


WHAT   ELFRIDA   SAID. 


207 


"  But  there  is,"  Jack  pleaded ;  "  if  not  for  Ethel's 
sake,  won't  you  do  it  for  mine,  for  you  and  1  have 
been  very  good  friends  ?  " 

"  I  tell  you,  I  can  do  nothing." 

"  Miss  Harland — Elfrida — why  will  you  be  so 
hard?  It  is  cruel  to  neglect  her,  my  brave  uncom- 
plaining little  girl,  who  has  never  had  any  pleasure 
out  of  her  life  as  yet !  " 

Again  Elfrida's  eyes  filled  with  tears  which  she 
strove  to  hide.  It  was  strange  how  Jack's  tenderness 
towards  Ethel  always  moved  her,  and  she  was  irri- 
tated with  herself  for  thus  giving  way. 

"  You  are  asking  an  impossibility,  Captain  Le 
Mesurier." 

"  No,  not  an  impossibility.  Of  course  I  am  not 
asking  you  for  mone,y.  Great  heavens !  do  you 
think  that  any  man  worthy  of  the  name  would  stoop 
so  low  as  that?  What  do  you  take  me  for?  By  all 
means  carry  out  Lord  Harland's  wishes  with  regard 
to  his  property ;  but  for  pity's  sake  give  your  only 
sister  the  protection  of  your  home  and  of  your  friend- 
ship, until  I  can  marry  her  and  take  her  out  to 
India." 

"  I  have  told  you  that  it  is  impossible." 

"  And  I  tell  you  that  it  is  not  impossible,"  cried 
Jack,  striding  up  and  down  the  room  in  the  fierce- 
ness of  his  anger ;  "  how  can  it  be  impossible  for  any 
woman  to  be  kind  to  her  own  sister?  " 

For  one  moment  Elfrida  felt  a  wild  impulse  to  tell 
Jack  the  reason  why  she  and  Ethel  were  so  widely 
and  impassably  separated,  and  to  see  once  for  all 
what  effect  the  truth  would  have  upon  him.  But  she 
controlled  herself,  and  merely  replied,  "  It  is." 

Jack  was  very  angry.  Elfrida's  attitude  towards 
her  sister  was  incomprehensible  to  him,  as  it  was  to 


208  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

all  who  did  not  know  Ethel's  secret.  He  little 
thought  that  a  time  would  come  when  he  would 
realize,  as  fully  as  Elfrida  did,  the  impossibility  of 
bridging  over  the  gulf  between  the  twins. 

*'  I  think  you  once  told  me,"  he  argued,  "  that 
although  Lord  Harland  separated  you  and  your  sis- 
ter in  the  first  instance,  it  is  not  his  doing  that  you 
are  kept  apart  now.  Is  that  so  ?  " 

Elfrida  bowed. 

"  I  have  also  heard,"  Jack  continued,  "  that  you 
have  been  quite  independent  ever  since  you  came  of 
age,  and  entirely  your  own  mistress." 

"  That  likewise  is  true." 

"  And  yet  you  never  see  your  only  sister,  never 
write  to  her!  Miss  Harland,  answer  me  truly,  is 
such  conduct  justifiable?" 

"  Not  only  justifiable,  but  unavoidable ;  and  you 
would  say  so  yourself  if  you  knew  the  truth.  But 
you  don't  know  it,  and  I  am  not  going  to  tell  it 
to  you — at  any  rate,  not  now." 

Jack  threw  back  his  head  impatiently.  This 
woman  infuriated  him  with  her  cold  persistence. 
And  yet,  indignant  as  he  was,  he  could  not  help  feel- 
ing the  fascination  of  her,  and  the  necessity  of  steel- 
ing himself  against  this  fascination  for  Ethel's  sake. 
Had  Ethel  been  as  wealthy  as  Elfrida,  it  is  possible 
that  Jack  might  have  allowed  the  latter  to  take  the 
place  of  the  former  in  his  affections,  as  the  more  he 
saw  of  her  the  more  she  attracted  him.  But  Ethel's 
poverty  held  him  fast  with  the  indomitable  strength 
of  weakness,  which  is  the  strongest  thing  in  the 
world. 

"  You  don't  even  know  where  your  sister  is,  nor 
what  she  is  doing,"  he  said  roughly. 

Elfrida  smiled  an  inscrutable  smile.     "  No,  I  cer- 


WHAT   ELFRIDA   SAID. 


209 


tainly  don't ;  and,  for  the  matter  of  that,  neither  do 
you.  Yet  you  profess  to  have  Ethel's  welfare  and 
interests  very  much  at  heart." 

This  retort  fairly  staggered  Jack.  Its  bare  truth 
hit  him  straight  in  the  face,  and  he  could  not  ward 
off  the  blow. 

Seeing  this,  Elfrida  pursued  her  advantage.  "  If 
ignorance  of  Ethel's  way  of  living  is  such  a  crime  in 
her  sister,  how  is  it  that  her  lover  is  not  better  in- 
formed? If  it  is  so  wrong  of  me  never  to  go  and 
see  her,  why  are  you  so  successfully  kept  away? 
Surely  the  goose's  sauce  is  also  suitable  for  the 
gander." 

Elfrida  was  a  plucky  woman  by  nature,  and  be- 
longed, moreover,  to  that  class  of  society  which 
counts  a  bright  face  and  a  brave  heart  as  amongst 
the  hall-marks  of  good  breeding,  and  which  would 
no  more  talk  about  its  sorrows  in  public  than  about 
its  servants ;  and  this  not  from  any  lack  of  acquaint- 
ance with  these  diverse  blessings  in  disguise,  but  from 
an  ingrained  and  cultivated  knowledge  of  the  utter 
evilness  of  boredom. 

Nevertheless,  though  her  words  might  be  light, 
her  eyes  were  heavy  with  unshed  tears,  and  her  voice 
quivered  now  .and  again  under  its  studied  careless- 
ness. 

"  I  never  pretended  to  love  my  sister,"  she  con- 
tinued ;  "how  could  I,  when  I  have  never  seen  her 
within  my  memory,  but  was  parted  from  her  when  we 
were  both  little  babies?  Yet  it  seems  to  me  that 
you,  for  all  your  boasted  affection,  know  even  less 
about  her  than  I  do.  And  then  you  empty  upon  me 
the  vials  of  your  wrath  because  I  do  not  know  more. 
It  strikes  me  that  you  are  a  little  unreasonable." 

"  All  men  in  love  are  unreasonable." 


210  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  Possibly ;  but  diagnosing  a  complaint  does  not 
cure  it.  Supposing,  now,  that  I  were  to  agree  to 
grant  your  request  and  to  go  straight  to  my  sister. 
Where  should  I  find  her?" 

Jack's  face  was  somewhat  blank  as  he  replied : 
"  I — I — don't  know." 

"  Neither  do  I." 

Jack  renewed  his  hasty  strides  up  and  down  the 
room.  "  I  simply  cannot  believe  it,  Miss  Harland." 

"  I  don't  expect  you  to  believe  it ;  but  it  is  never- 
theless true." 

"  It  is  impossible  to  believe  it — absolutely  im- 
possible." 

"  That  may  be ;  but  haven't  you  learnt  by  this 
time  that  the  impossible  happens  even  more  frequent- 
ly than  the  unexpected  ?  "  Elfrida  replied  in  her  old 
didactic  manner. 

Jack  came  up  to  where  she  was  sitting,  and  laid 
his  big  hand  beseechingly  upon  her  arm.  "  You  know 
more  than  I  do,"  he  said  simply ;  "  please  tell  me  all 
that  you  know." 

The  eyes  that  Elfrida  raised  to  his  thrilled  him 
through  and  through,  they  were  so  exactly  like 
Ethel's.  "  Would  you  let  another  woman  tell  you 
what  the  woman  you  love  has  chosen  to  keep  from 
you?  Surely  it  is  every  woman's  right  to  tell  her 
own  secrets  to  the  man  she  loves." 

"  Yes,  yes ;  you  are  right.  Forgive  me  for  ask- 
ing such  a  question ;  and  forget  that  I  asked  it.  I 
should  be  a  mean  hound  if  I  let  another  woman  tell 
me  what  Ethel  herself  has  chosen  to  keep  back.  I 
trust  her  absolutely,  and  I  will  trust  her  to  the  death. 
Thank  you  for  recalling  me  to  my  better  self." 

Again  Elfrida's  resolution  wavered.  "  Listen," 
she  said  suddenly ;  "  I  will  tell  you  Ethel's  secret 


WHAT   ELFRIDA   SAID.  2II 

now,  if  you  bid  me  do  so.  If  you  give  the  word,  my 
sister's  secret  shall  be  yours,  and  all  mystery  shall 
be  at  an  end  between  us.  It  is  for  you  to  decide." 

She  meant  to  abide  by  his  decision  whatever  it 
was ;  but  she  knew  beforehand  what  his  decision 
would  be. 

Jack  shook  his  head.  "  No,  no ;  I  will  hear  her 
secret  from  her  own  lips  or  not  at  all.  As  I  have 
told  you,  I  trust  her  absolutely." 

"  Trust  her  less  and  love  her  more ;  that  is  my 
advice,  and  I  think  you  will  need  it  before  you  have 
done." 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean ;  but  I  do  know 
that  whatever  your  sister  has  done,  and  whatever 
she  has  concealed,  I  will  marry  her  in  the  face  of  the 
whole  world.  Nothing  shall  come  between  us." 

Elfrida's  eyes  flashed,  and  her  voice  shook  with 
suppressed  emotion.  Like  all  real  women,  she  knew 
a  real  man  when  she  saw  one,  and  did  reverence  to 
the  vision. 

"  Listen  to  me,"  she  said ;  "  you  can  never  marry 
my  sister — never!  Take  my  word  for  it,  and  give 
up  the  woman  you  love  before  it  goes  any  further 
and  you  learn  to  care  too  much ;  or  else,  when  you 
find  her  out,  it  will  break  your  heart.  After  all, 
what  is  her  suffering  compared  with  yours  ?  As  long 
as  you  are  happy,  it  is  of  no  consequence  what  dis- 
appointment she  may  have  to  bear.  And  whatever 
suffering  comes  to  her  she  deserves  it,  for  she  has 
deceived  the  best  and  truest  man  in  the  whole 
world." 

But  Jack  was  not  to  be  moved.  "  I  swear  that  I 
will  never  give  Ethel  up,"  he  cried. 

"  And  I  swear  that  you  will  never  marry  her." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 
ETHEL'S  GIFT. 

"  Do  you  know  that  the  ways  you  pass  by 

Where  the  stream  of  the  traffic  is  flowing, 
Are  like  ladders  that  lead  to  the  sky, 

Whereon  angels  are  coming  and  going?" 

THE  tongues  of  the  good  ladies  of  Sunnydale 
fulfilled  in  every  respect  the  expectations  of  S.  James 
the  Less ;  so  much  so,  in  fact,  that  Mrs.  Morgan, 
who  had  borne  a  bold  front  against  the  attacks  of 
age  and  penury,  laid  down  her  arms  at  last  and  suc- 
cumbed. The  truth  of  Mark  Antony's  utterance  re- 
specting the  longevity  of  "  the  evil  that  men  do  "  and 
the  early  burial  of  the  good,  is  proved  over  and  over 
again  in  the  case  of  the  Mrs.  Browns  and  the  Mrs. 
Cottles  of  this  present  world ;  for  the  evil  reports  that 
they  spread,  out  of  sheer  mental  idleness,  blossom  and 
bear  fruit  long  after  the  unbleached  and  uncomfort- 
able garments  which  they  simultaneously  fashion  for 
their  poorer  brethren  have  vanished  into  dust  or  the 
pawn-shop. 

So  it  was  with  the  really  well-meaning — if  too 
conversational — matrons  of  Sunnydale ;  and  so  it  is 
with  all  of  us  who  carefully  wash  the  outside  of  the 
cup  and  the  platter,  and  then  use  the  same  for  dish- 
ing up  such  spicy  morsels  of  gossip  as  the  real  or 


ETHEL'S   GIFT.  213 

imagined  shortcomings  of  our  neighbours  can  sup- 
ply us  with.  Yet  we  have  all  read  S.  Paul's  views  as 
to  the  importance  of  charity,  and  are  aware  that  re- 
ligion, in  conjunction  with  an  unbridled  tongue,  held 
but  a  poor  place  in  the  estimation  of  S.  James.  But 
we  are  wonderfully  adaptable,  and  make  our  religion 
even  more  so. 

Thus  it  came  to  pass  that  poor  old  Mrs.  Morgan 
broke  down  under  the  prying  eyes  and  spiteful 
tongues  of  Sunnydale,  and  confided  the  same  to  her 
granddaughter  when  the  latter  arrived  to  spend  her 
summer  holidays. 

"  The  long  and  the  short  of  it  is  that  I  can  bear 
no  more,"  she  concluded,  wiping  the  slow  tears  of 
age  from  her  tired  eyes.  "  Those  dreadful  women 
talk,  talk,  talk,  till  it  is  misery  to  live  among  them. 
You  will  have  to  tell  them  the  truth,  my  dear,  or  else 
let  us  leave  the  neighbourhood ;  and  your  grand- 
father and  I  are  getting  full  old  to  move." 

"  Oh,  granny,  not  yet — please  not  yet.  I  am  so 
happy  just  now,  and  I  have  never  been  really  happy 
in  my  life  before.  Do  let  me  live  in  my  fool's  para- 
dise a  little  longer." 

"  Well,  it  is  a  fool's  purgatory  to  me." 

Ethel  came  up  to  her  grandmother  and  kissed 
her.  "  I  am  so  sorry,  dear  granny.  But  don't  you 
think  you  could  bear  it  a  little  longer?  It  means  so 
much  to  me." 

"  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to ;  but  it  seems  a  pity 
that  you  don't  make  a  clean  breast  of  the  whole 
affair,  and  tell  the  truth  once  for  all.  Why  don't 
you  ?  " 

"  Because  I  am  afraid  I  should  lose  Jack  if  I 
did." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  think  he  will 


214  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

break  off  the  engagement  when  he  finds  out  all  about 
you?" 

"  Yes." 

"  If  he  does  he  is  a  fool." 

Ethel  sighed.  "  Most  men  are,  but  you  have  to 
allow  for  that  in  dealing  with  them." 

"  Oh !  my  dear,  what  an  unwomanly  thing  to 
say ! " 

"  I  mean  that  they  are  fools  in  the  nice  sense ; 
that  is  to  say,  they  have  consciences  and  senses  of 
honour,  and  hate  lies.  Oh  dear!  oh  dear!  I  wish  I'd 
told  Jack  all  about  myself  before  we  became  en- 
gaged." 

"  So  do  I,  with  all  my  heart.  I  told  you  so  in  the 
first  instance,  but  you  would  not  listen  to  me,  and 
now  you  are  caught  in  your  own  net.  Of  course 
he  will  be  angry,  I  cannot  deny  that ;  and  he  will  do 
well  to  be  angry." 

"  I  wonder  if  he  would  have  been  angry  if  I  had 
told  him  at  first,"  said  Ethel. 

"  I  don't  see  how  he  could  have  been.  He  might 
have  disapproved  of  all  this  play-acting  business,  and 
have  preferred  that  his  future  wife  should  have  kept 
clear  of  anything  of  the  kind ;  but  I  don't  see  how 
he  could  have  been  angry.  You  had  a  perfect  right 
to  do  what  you  liked,  as  long  as  you  were  indepen- 
dent ;  but  as  soon  as  you  ceased  to  be  independent, 
you  had  no  right  to  keep  from  him  what  you  had 
been  doing." 

"  But  I  don't  believe  he  ever  would  have  pro- 
posed to  me  if  he  had  known  the  truth  about 
me." 

Mrs.  Morgan  shook  her  head.  "Then  it  was 
very  wrong  of  you  to  let  him  propose  to  you  with- 
out knowing  the  truth,  and  still  more  wrong  of  you 


ETHEL'S   GIFT. 


215 


to  accept  him.  I  cannot  imagine  how  you  ever  came 
to  do  such  a  thing — I  really  cannot." 

Ethel  hung  her  head  penitently.  "  It  certainly 
was  foolish  of  me." 

"  Foolish  indeed  !  It  was  something  much  worse 
than  foolish,  my  dear.  In  fact  it  was  not  acting 
fairly  towards  the  man  who  had  done  you  the  hon- 
our to  ask  you  to  be  his  wife ;  for,  looked  at  from 
his  point  of  view,  it  was  an  honour  for  a  gentleman 
in  Captain  Le  Mesurier's  position  to  propose  to  the 
granddaughter  of  a  poor  organist." 

Ethel's  face  glowed.  "  Yes,  granny,  you  are 
right,  it  was  an  honour ;  and  I  shall  be  grateful  to  him 
for  paying  me  such  a  compliment  as  long  as  I  live." 
And  she  held  up  her  head  with  the  pride  that  a 
woman  always  feels  when  she  knows  that  she  is 
crowned  with  a  good  man's  love. 

"  Well,  then,  you  have  a  funny  way  of  showing 
your  gratitude;  that  is  all  I  can  say.  I  wonder  he 
doesn't  feel  more  curiosity  as  to  how  you  spend  your 
time  when  you  are  not  at  Sunnydale,  and  where  your 
income  comes  from  ;  for  he  must  know  that  Septimus 
and  I  could  not  afford  to  keep  you." 

"  I  begged  him  to  trust  me,  and  not  to  ask  me 
any  questions,"  Ethel  explained. 

"  Humph !  He  trusts  you  more  than  I  should 
do  in  his  place ;  I  will  say  that  for  him." 

"  He  thinks  I  am  a  governess.  Just  picture  me 
as  a  governess,  training  small  children  in  the  way 
that  they  should  go!  Isn't  it  killing?  "  And  Ethel 
fairly  bubbled  over  with  laughter  at  the  image  she 
thus  conjured  up. 

"  I  should  pity  the  small  children  that  were  gov- 
ernessed  by  you,  my  dear,"  replied  Mrs.  Morgan, 
somewhat  grimly. 


2l6  A   DOUBLE    THREAD. 

"  You  are  very  rude,  granny ;  they  would  have  a 
delightful  time." 

"  More  delightful  than  educational,  I  should  im- 
agine." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that.  I  could  teach  them 
a  lot  more  than  they  would  learn  from  an  ordinary 
governess ;  I  can  promise  you  that." 

"  Of  a  sort,"  said  Mrs.  Morgan ;  "  but  I  don't 
know  that  it  is  a  sort  that  would  do  them  much 
good.  You  know  too  much  of  the  world  and  its 
ways,  my  dear,  for  your  age.  I  was  saying  so  only 
yesterday  to  your  grandfather." 

"  And  what  did  he  say  ?  " 

"  Oh !  he  said  that  in  his  eyes  you  were  perfect,  as 
your  mother  was  before  you.  That  is  just  like  Septi- 
mus :  he  spoilt  poor  Milly,  and  he  is  spoiling  you." 

"  Dear  grandfather !  "  said  Ethel  softly. 

"  But  now  we  are  dealing  with  things  as  they 
are,  and  not  with  things  as  they  would  have  been  if 
you  were  as  simple  and  straightforward  as  I  was  at 
your  age,"  said  Mrs.  Morgan ;  "  of  course  Captain 
Le  Mesurier  will  be  angry  when  he  discovers  the 
truth,  but  I  don't  see  that  it  follows  he  will  break  off 
the  engagement." 

"  I  wish  I  could  do  something  that  would  ensure 
his  love  and  forgiveness,"  sighed  Ethel.  Then  she 
started,  as  an  idea  suddenly  came  into  her  head.  She 
knew  the  legend  of  the  famous  Harland  diamond; 
it  was  a  popular  and  well-known  story ;  but  until 
now  she  had  never  paid  much  attention  to  it. 

"  I  dare  say  he  would  get  over  the  shock  in 
time,"  persisted  Mrs.  Morgan. 

"  You  don't  know  him  as  well  as  I  do,  granny." 

"  Naturally ;  but  I  know  that  a  man  is  always 
ready  to  find  excuses  for  the  woman  he  loves." 


ETHEL'S   GIFT.  2 1/ 

Ethel  tossed  her  head  scornfully.  She  had  al- 
tered much  of  late;  had  grown  harder  and  bitterer 
and  more  like  Elfrida  in  her  ways.  Love  is  certainly 
a  successful  schoolmaster,  but  the  lessons  that  he 
teaches  do  not  invariably  make  for  amiability. 

"  I  hate  excuses,"  she  said ;  "  nothing  is  really 
inexcusable  save  an  excuse." 

"  Tut-tut,  child,  don't  be  so  highty-tighty.  It  is 
better  not  to  have  need  of  excuses,  I  admit ;  but  a 
girl  who  has  done  what  you  have  done,  must  re- 
member that  excuses  are  better  than  wholesale  con- 
demnation; and  you  are  bound  to  get  one  or  the 
other." 

"  Heigho !  I  wish  I  had  never  been  such  a 
fool." 

"  That  is  what  most  folks  are  wishing,"  replied 
Mrs.  Morgan,  "  and  it  is  sheer  waste  of  time.  The 
best  thing  is  to  accept  one's  own  folly,  and  try  to 
make  the  best  of  a  bad  job." 

"  By  which  you  mean  that  if  you  were  in  my 
place  you  would  tell  Jack  straight  out  that  I  am 
nothing  but  an  actress,  as  my  mother  was  before 
me,"  said  Ethel  bitterly. 

"  Don't  abuse  your  poor  mother,  my  dear ;  she 
never  made  any  secret  about  what  she  was.  If  I  had 
been  in  your  place  I  should  never  have  told  Captain 
Le  Mesurier  anything  but  the  truth  from  the  begin- 
ning. I  might  have  done  something  else  equally  un- 
wise, but  never  that." 

"  But,  granny,  I  must  be  happy  just  a  little 
longer." 

Mrs.  Morgan  sighed.  "  Very  well,  my  dear ;  but 
you  will  have  to  tell  him  before  you  are  married. 
You  could  never  let  a  man  marry  you  with  his  eyes 

shut." 

15 


2i 8  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  If  men  didn't  marry  with  their  eyes  shut  they'd 
never  marry  at  all." 

"  You  know  what  I  mean.  That  is  mere  quib- 
bling. You  must  tell  Captain  Le  Mesurier  all  about 
yourself  before  you  marry  him;  and  if  you  don't, 
I  shall." 

Ethel's  pretty  face  grew  anxious.  "  Oh !  no,  no. 
You  promised  you  would  never  betray  me." 

"  And  I  don't  mean  to  betray  you  if  I  can  pos- 
sibly help  it.  As  I've  told  you,  I  hate  the  whole 
affair,  and  entirely  disapprove  of  it;  but  I  will  keep 
your  secret  until  I  feel  that  I  am  guilty  of  actual 
sin  in  so  doing.  Still  I  will  let  you  marry  no  man 
under  false  pretences,  and  I  hope  you  will  under- 
stand this  once  for  all." 

"  Very  well,  dear  old  granny.  If  you'll  go  on 
keeping  the  secret  for  a  few  weeks  longer,  I'll  prom- 
ise to  tell  Jack  before  we  are  married.  But  I  don't 
believe,  in  that  case,  that  we  shall  ever  be  married  at 
all."  And  Ethel's  face  grew  very  sad. 

Ethel  went  up  to  London  for  the  day  soon  after 
this ;  and  when  she  returned  she  invited  Jack  to 
Sunnydale,  and  there  told  him  as  much  of  her  grand- 
mother's perplexities  as  she  thought  it  good  for  him 
to  know.  That  is  to  say,  she  informed  him  of  the 
gossip  about  her  and  how  unhappy  it  made  the  old 
people ;  but  she  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  add 
Mrs.  Morgan's  injunctions  as  to  the  importance  of 
letting  him  know  how  matters  actually  stood. 

Jack  treated  the  matter  in  a  thoroughly  delight- 
ful, and  masculine,  and  inefficient  manner.  He  said 
that  "  the  old  cats'  mouths  ought  to  be  stopped," 
and  even  went  so  far  as  to  suggest  performing  this 
desirable  if  difficult  operation  himself,  though  how  it 
was  to  be  accomplished  neither  he  nor  anybody  else 


ETHEL'S   GIFT. 


2I9 


had  the  slightest  idea.  He  was  still  young  enough  to 
prescribe  the  impossible  as  a  cure  for  the  unpleasant. 

Of  course  he  could  not  "  stop  the  old  cats' 
mouths  "  ;  what  man  ever  could  ?  And  the  attitude 
of  Sunnydale  towards  Ethel  was  so  disagreeable  to 
him  that  he  finally  could  bear  it  no  longer,  but  car- 
ried her  off  to  Silverhampton,  on  a  visit  to  his  great- 
aunt  Camilla.  Ethel  herself  did  not  care  much  about 
the  gossip,  and  was  more  amused  than  indignant 
thereat ;  but  she  was  sorry  when  she  saw  how  it  hurt 
both  Jack  and  her  grandmother,  and  so  was  willing  to 
fall  in  with  their  wishes  and  go  away  again  for  a  time. 
She  and  her  grandfather  enjoyed  many  a  laugh  to- 
gether over  the  things  which  were  said  about  her. 
They  both  possessed  the  artistic  temperament;  and 
the  artistic  temperament — whatever  may  be  its  disad- 
vantages— always  ensures  its  possessors  against  two 
evil  things,  namely,  the  fear  of  man  and  the  love  of 
money. 

For  there  is  nothing  which  makes  people  so 
strong  as  not  caring  about  a  thing;  and  there  is 
nothing  which  makes  people  not  care  about  a  thing 
except  caring  about  something  else.  This  is  why 
the  true  artist  never  eats  his  heart  out  when  his 
creations  fail  to  secure  to  him  a  title  or  an  invitation 
to  a  Court  ball ;  this  is  also  the  reason  why  things 
temporal  fail  to  turn  the  heads  of  those  whose  eyes 
have  once  been  opened  to  the  things  eternal. 

It  is  only  when  Orpheus  sings  that  the  notes  of 
the  Sirens  lose  their  powers  to  charm. 

But  though  Ethel  laughed  at  the  gossip  about 
herself,  she  did  not  laugh  at  the  facts.  Day  and 
night  they  stared  her  in  the  face,  and  gave  her  no 
peace ;  for  the  better  she  knew  Jack,  the  more  clearly 
she  understood  that  a  deception  was  the  one  thing 


220  A   DOUBLE    THREAD. 

that  he  would  not  forgive.  Moreover,  Jack  was  not 
a  clever  man ;  and  Ethel  had  learnt  that  the  more 
easy  it  is  to  take  a  person  in,  the  more  difficult  it  is 
afterwards  to  obtain  that  person's  forgiveness.  Had 
Jack  been  harder  to  deceive,  he  would  have  been 
readier  to  pardon  the  deceit.  That  a  thief  is  the 
proper  person  to  catch  a  thief  has  long  been  ad- 
mitted by  proverbial  philosophy ;  but  it  is  a  co-rela- 
tive truth  that  only  a  thief  can  enter  into  the  temp- 
tations and  appreciate  the  successes  of  his  fellow- 
purloiners ;  which  principle  applies  to  many  other 
things  than  the  breach  of  the  Eighth  Commandment. 

Therefore  Ethel  realized  more  and  more  fully 
that  her  happiness  was  doomed  to  be  short-lived ; 
and  for  that  reason  she  was  determined  to  enjoy  it  to 
the  full  while  it  lasted.  To  some  women  the  very 
fact  of  its  transient  nature  would  have  robbed  her 
joy  of  all  its  charm ;  but  she  was  of  the  light-hearted 
type  which  can  shut  off  yesterday  and  to-morrow  as 
easily  as  a  P.  &  O.  steamer  can  shut  off  its  separate 
water-tight  compartments.  Which  is  a  plan  to  be 
commended  both  in  women  and  ships. 

So  Jack  and  Ethel  came  to  Silverhampton  for  a 
time,  and  there  made  love  to  their  hearts'  content. 
People  could  make  love  as  well  as  they  could  make 
iron  at  Silverhampton  in  those  days,  and  both  were 
of  the  best  quality  and  wore  well.  Happy  hours  were 
those  at  the  Deanery,  under  the  shadow  of  the  Old 
Church.  The  blossoming  season  was  over,  and  the 
time  of  fruit  was  come ;  so  the  pear  and  apple  or- 
chards looked  like  a  billowy  sea  of  leaves,  as  one 
stood  in  King's  Square  and  gazed  across  the  green 
valley  to  the  blue  hills  beyond. 

Miss  Camilla  fell  in  love  with  Ethel  at  first  sight ; 
for  (though  few  people  grasp  this  fact)  old  ladies 


ETHEL'S   GIFT.  221 

are  even  more  susceptible  to  youthful  female  beauty 
than  young  men  are ;  and  this  is  by  no  means  put- 
ting the  case  lightly.  Every  morning  she  left  the 
lovers  to  themselves,  while  she  attended  matins  in 
the  Old  Church  and  looked  well  to  the  ways  of  her 
household ;  and  every  afternoon  she  took  them  for 
a  drive,  for  the  drives  are  many  and  beautiful  in  that 
part  of  Mershire.  They  drove  along  Tetleigh  Wood, 
where  one  can  see  the  whole  panorama  of  three  coun- 
ties spread  out  before  one,  and  where  surely  the  sun 
takes  more  trouble  to  set  becomingly  than  he  takes 
anywhere  else ;  and  thence  down  into  the  Holloway, 
and  beside  the  canal,  which  looks  more  like  a  natural 
river  devoted  to  pleasure  than  an  artificial  water- 
road  for  the  carrying  of  coal.  Another  day  they  went 
by  the  old  coach  road  to  Pembruge,  the  far-famed 
village  of  Nell  and  her  grandfather  in  the  Old  Curi- 
osity Shop ;  where  the  ideal  old  church  is  like  a  mini- 
ature cathedral,  and  stands,  with  its  ruined  college, 
close  by  the  edge  of  a  lake  bespangled  with  water- 
lilies.  At  the  head  of  the  lake  is  a  fantastically  de- 
vised castle,  like  the  palace  of  some  quaint  old  fairy- 
tale ;  and  all  the  woods  around  are  a  veritable  queen's 
garden  of  wild  flowers,  and  are  in  turn  paved  with 
marble  and  gold  and  amethyst,  according  as  it  is  the 
season  for  snowdrops  or  daffodils  or  bluebells.  It 
was  too  late  for  spring  flowers  when  Jack  and  Ethel 
went  to  Pembruge ;  but  they  wandered  through  the 
woods  and  worshipped  in  the  church,  and  the  stone 
crusaders  there  seemed  to  Jack  to  be  repeating  the 
same  message  that  the  warriors  at  Greystone  had  al- 
ready brought — that  message  of  the  littleness  of  tem- 
poral and  the  greatness  of  eternal  things. 

Miss  Camilla  also  took  them  to  the  quaint  old 
house,  some  seven  miles  from  Silverhampton,  where 


222  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

Charles  II.  was  once  hidden  in  a  hole  in  the  cheese- 
room,  and  another  time  in  an  oak-tree.  They  saw 
the  oak,  which  was  by  now  far  too  old  and  decrepit 
to  conceal  a  commoner,  much  less  a  king ;  and  they 
went  down  into  the  hole,  one  at  a  time,  and  wondered 
what  it  must  feel  like  to  be  a  fugitive  monarch.  And 
because  royalty  is  like  love,  in  that  the  places  where 
it  has  once  walked  can  never  again  be  unhallowed 
ground — which  saying  applies  not  only  to  the  roy- 
alty of  kingship,  as  any  one  will  know  who  has  trod- 
den the  streets  of  Stratford-upon-Avon,  or  sat  in  the 
arbour  of  Bishop  Ken  at  Wells,  or  stood  by  Bun- 
yan's  cottage  at  Elstow — Ethel  felt  the  same  sort  of 
a  thrill  there  that  she  felt  at  Sunnydale  when  she 
passed  by  the  spot  where  Jack  first  told  her  of  his 
love. 

They  drove  to  Otter  Dingle,  which  is  as  beautiful 
as  the  Trossachs,  though  on  a  smaller  scale ;  they 
went  to  Drewood,  where  King  John  once  held  his 
court ;  they  saw  the  old  cross  which  marks  the  spot 
where  a  wild  panther  was  slain  by  a  knight — though 
the  knight  was  at  one  end  of  a  mile-long  avenue  and 
the  panther  at  another — because  the  arrow  was 
winged  with  a  prayer;  they  visited  Kynaston  Edge 
and  saw  the  caves  where  strange  robber-folk  dwelt 
in  bygone  days ;  and  they  learned  that  the  country 
which  is  called  black  is  some  of  the  prettiest  country 
in  England,  just  as  the  people  who  are  called  com- 
mon are  often  among  the  saints  of  the  earth. 

"  Isn't  it  all  lovely  ?  "  said  Ethel  one  day,  as  she 
and  Jack  were  wandering  in  the  lanes  that  lie  to  the 
west  of  Silverhampton. 

"  Yes ;  it  is  pretty  enough.  I  was  surprised  to 
find  it  like  this  the  first  time  I  came  here.  When 
I  said  I  had  an  aunt  living  at  Silverhampton,  people 


ETHEL'S   GIFT. 


223 


appeared  to  think  that  she  dwelt  at  the  bottom  of  a 
coal-pit." 

"  I  know :  like  Truth  at  the  bottom  of  a  well." 

"  Exactly." 

"  But  don't  you  think,  Jack,  that  people  and 
places  are  invariably  the  opposite  to  what  they  are 
painted?  I  have  never  felt  the  cold  in  my  life  as  I 
have  felt  it  on  the  south  coast ;  I  never  knew  what 
real  depression  meant  till  I  met  a  funny  man ;  and 
now  I  think  I  have  never  seen  anything  so  pretty  as 
the  Black  Country." 

Jack  laughed.  "  You  should  see  the  Black  Coun- 
try in  the  spring.  Now  it  is  only  green,  but  then  it 
is  pink  and  white  like  a  gigantic  birthday-cake.  I 
never  saw  such  blossom  in  my  life  as  I  saw  here 
when  I  came  to  visit  my  aunt  in  the  early  part  of 
the  year.  Next  spring  you  and  I  will  come  and  see 
it  together,  sweetheart." 

The  girl  gave  a  little  shudder.  By  next  spring 
Jack  would  know  the  truth  about  her,  and  what 
would  she  care  for  green  leaves  and  pink  blossoms  if 
she  and  Jack  were  separated  for  ever?  Jack  did 
not,  however,  notice  the  little  shudder ;  he  was  a  man 
of  slow  perceptions,  and  derived  much  comfort  from 
the  same.  Quick  perceptions  are  a  doubtful  bless- 
ing to  their  possessor,  and  an  undeniable  nuisance 
to  their  possessor's  friends — unless,  of  course,  in  the 
exceptional  cases  when  the  friends  happen  to  be  ab- 
solutely sincere. 

"  But  I  think  what  really  makes  this  place  so 
pretty  is  your  being  here,"  Ethel  said. 

"  You  darling!     Is  it  so  nice  being  with  me?  " 

"  Nice,  Jack  ?  Why,  it's  perfectly  heavenly.  It 
makes  every  day  seem  like  a  birthday  or  a  Jubilee  or 
Christmas  Day ;  and  it  turns  every  ordinary  meal 


224  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

into  a  feast  fit  for  a  queen ;  and  it  changes  common 
duties  into  delightful  treats.  You  are  like  the  king 
who  turned  to  gold  everything  that  he  touched,  for 
nothing  seems  dull  or  commonplace  when  I  am  with 
you." 

"  Sweetheart,  you  mustn't  flatter  me  too  much. 
If  my  memory  doesn't  deceive  me,  the  king  you  refer 
to  had  asses'  ears ;  and  I  am  afraid  you  will  think 
I  carry  out  the  resemblance  if  I  believe  all  the  pretty 
fibs  you  tell  me  about  myself." 

"  They  aren't  fibs,  Jack — really,  they  aren't.  All 
the  nice  things  I  have  ever  imagined  or  dreamed  of 
since  I  was  born  seem  to  have  come  true  in  you. 
Just  as  all  roads  lead  to  Rome,  so  all  the  pathways 
of  my  life  seem  to  lead  up  to  you.  I  have  been 
waiting  for  you  always,  dear.  I  knew  I  was  wait- 
ing, but  till  you  came  I  didn't  know  it  was  for 
you." 

Jack's  face  glowed  with  delight  and  devotion,  but 
he  found  it  harder  to  talk  about  feelings  than  Ethel 
did. 

"  I  think  that  life  must  be  awfully  dull  to  all  the 
people  who  aren't  engaged,"  he  remarked  sapiently, 
after  a  moment's  pause. 

"  I  go  farther  than  that.  I  think  that  life  must  be 
awfully  dull  to  all  the  people  who  aren't  engaged 
to  you." 

"  What  a  dear  little  girl  you  are !  I  wonder  what 
makes  you  like  me  so  much  ?  " 

"  Oh !  because  you  are  you.  It  is  a  most  ade- 
quate reason." 

"  I'm  afraid  I  don't  find  it  is  what  clever  people 
call  convincing." 

Ethel's  face  grew  serious.  "  Oh,  Jack !  you  have 
no  idea  what  you  are  to  me." 


ETHEL'S   GIFT. 


225 


"  When  did  you  begin  to  love  me  so  much  ?  " 
Jack  wondered.  "  As  soon  as  we  met  ?  " 

"  No,  not  exactly  then.  I'll  tell  you  how  it  was. 
All  my  life  I  had  been  conscious  that  I  had  another 
self  asleep  inside  me — a  self  that  neither  I  nor  any- 
body else  had  ever  seen.  I  knew  that  there  was  only 
one  tune  that  could  wake  that  sleeping  self,  and  I 
knew  that  only  one  man  would  ever  play  that  tune. 
As  soon  as  I  saw  you  I  knew  that  you  could  play  it, 
but  I  didn't  know  if  you  ever  would,  and  I  rather 
hoped  that  you  wouldn't." 

"  And  did  I  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  as  soon  as  you  played  it  the  sleeping 
self  woke  up,  and  now  she  can  never  again  be  put 
to  silence,  either  by  you  or  by  any  one  else." 

"  Are  you  happier  than  you  were  when  she  was 
still  asleep  ?  "  Jack  asked. 

"  Both  happier  and  unhappier.  Since  I  began  to 
care  for  you,  I  have  reached  heights  and  touched 
depths  that  I  never  dreamed  of  before ;  and  though 
I  admit  the  heights  are  heavenly,  the  depths  are 
quite  the  reverse.  Capacity  for  joy  means  capacity  for 
suffering  too,  and  one  cannot  go  in  for  one  without 
the  other.  To  fall  in  love  is  to  plunge  a  dagger  into 
one's  own  heart,  and  then  to  place  the  hilt  of  it  in 
the  hand  of  a  man  so  that  he  may  turn  it  at  his  pleas- 
ure. Sometimes  I  want  to  be  young  again,  and  to 
think  that  life  is  all  beer  and  skittles ;  and  sometimes 
I  am  thankful  I  am  old  enough  to  know  that  there  is 
really  nothing  in  the  world  but  you." 

"  My  darling,  I'm  not  clever  like  you  are,  and  I 
can't  say  things  nicely  as  you  do.  But,  like  the 
sailor's  parrot,  I'm  '  a  beggar  to  think,'  and  I  care 
for  you  a  million  times  more  than  I  can  ever  say. 
I  never  minded  being  stupid  before,  but  now  would 


226  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

give  anything  to  be  clever  enough  to  tell  you  prop- 
erly how  much  I  love  you.  But  though  clever  men 
might  make  love  better,  they  couldn't  feel  it  more 
than  I  do,  you  may  be  certain." 

"  Dear  old  boy,  you  aren't  a  bit  stupid.  You  are 
the  nicest,  biggest,  handsomest  man  in  the  whole 
world,  and  I'm  most  awfully  proud  of  you.  I'm  so 
glad  you  are  a  soldier :  I  love  soldiers." 

Jack  nodded.  "  Yes ;  soldiering  is  a  good  busi- 
ness." 

"  Still,  I  think  it  is  because  you  are  a  soldier  that 
I  like  soldiers  so  much,"  Ethel  added  truthfully.  "  I 
should  have  adored  your  calling,  whatever  it  might 
have  been ;  and  if  you  had  been  a  crossing-sweeper 
I  should  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  crossing- 
sweeping  was  the  only  learned  profession.  Men  love 
a  woman  because  she  happens  to  possess  the  quali- 
ties that  they  admire ;  women  admire  certain  quali- 
ties because  the  men  they  love  happen  to  possess 
them." 

"Oh!  that's  it,  is  it?     I  see." 

"  Isn't  it  lovely  to  be  together  again  ?  "  remarked 
Ethel,  as  the  lovers  seated  themselves  on  a  stile  al- 
most hidden  in  a  thick  wall  of  greenery.  "  Lanes 
are  the  proper  place  for  making  love,  just  as  moors 
are  the  proper  places  for  shooting  grouse,  and  coal- 
fields are  the  proper  places  for  manufacturing  iron. 
Think  of  the  poor  people  in  London  who  have  to 
make  love  in  omnibuses  and  ABC  shops  and  hor- 
rid places  of  that  kind !  " 

"  I  don't  think  it  matters  where  you  make  love  as 
long  as  you've  got  the  right  person  to  make  it  to. 
Provided  that  you  were  there  too,  I  could  make  love 
beautifully  in  an  underground  railway  or  a  cocoa- 
house,  let  alone  an  omnibus  or  an  A  B  C  shop." 


ETHEL'S   GIFT. 


227 


"  What  a  nice  boy  you  are !  " 

And  then,  as  no  one  was  looking,  Jack  kissed  her. 

In  spite  of  the  sword  that  was  hanging  over  her 
head,  that  visit  to  Silverhampton  was  the  happiest 
time  of  Ethel's  life  so  far.  In  the  first  place,  she  was 
with  Jack,  and  in  the  second,  she  found  great  delight 
in  the  companionship  of  Miss  Camilla.  There  was 
extreme  refinement,  as  well  as  considerable  culture, 
in  the  Deanery  at  Silverhampton,  and  there  was  an 
utter  absence  of  anything  pertaining  to  snobbish- 
ness. 

It  would  have  been  difficult  to  find  anywhere  a 
more  perfect  gentlewoman  than  Camilla  Desmond. 
Although  she  did  not  belong  to  a  great  house  in  the 
aristrocratic  sense  of  the  word,  the  Desmonds  had 
long  been  the  royal  family,  so  to  speak,  of  Silver- 
hampton;  and  prestige  of  any  kind  always  confers 
inward,  as  well  as  outward,  grace  on  its  possessor. 

Lord  Melbourne's  celebrated  remark  respecting 
the  absence  of  any  merit  in  the  disposition  of  the 
Garter,  applies  to  other  things  than  Orders  of 
Knighthood.  The  greatness  which  men  achieve 
brings  with  it  a  certain  amount  of  responsibility ; 
but  the  greatness  to  which  they  are  born — like  that 
which  is  thrust  upon  them — is  independent  of  any 
deserving  on  their  part,  and  so  carries  with  it  an 
unself-consciousness  and  easy  confidence  which  noth- 
ing can  displace. 

It  is  the  things  in  ourselves  that  we  cannot  help, 
about  which  we  are  proud  and  sensitive ;  what  we 
can  alter  at  will  is  no  subject  for  vanity  or  shame. 
This  is  the  reason  why  a  man  can  forgive  us  for 
doubting  his  motives  or  condemning  his  policy,  but 
never  for  despising  his  ancestry  or  objecting  to  his 
personal  appearance. 


228  A    DOUBLE    THREAD. 

"  Jack  dear,"  said  Ethel  one  day,  "  you  have 
given  me  so  many  presents,  and  I  have  never  yet 
given  you  one.  But  here  is  a  ring  that  I  want  you 
to  promise  to  wear  always  for  my  sake.  Will  you  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  will,  darling,  if  you  wish  it." 

"  You  promise  that  you  will  wear  it  always,  what- 
ever happens  ? " 

"  Yes,  sweetheart,  till  death." 

Then  Ethel  took  a  ring  out  of  a  case  and  slipped 
it  on  to  Jack's  little  finger.  It  was  a  massive  gold 
ring,  with  a  single  stone  in  it ;  and  Jack  was  speech- 
less with  amazement  when  he  saw  that  the  stone  was 
a  wonderful  pink  diamond. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

SUSPICION. 

"  I  hewed  an  idol  out  of  stone, 

The  whitest  stone  I  ever  saw  ; 

But  by  your  proving  it  was  shown 

The  marble  had  a  hidden  flaw." 

MR.  FENTON,  Miss  Harland's  lawyer,  was  in  great 
distress ;  for  Miss  Harland  had  left  town  in  the  mid- 
dle of  July,  saying  that  she  was  going  for  a  thorough 
rest  to  some  outlandish  German  place  whereof  no 
sane  person  could  pronounce  the  name,  and  leaving 
no  address,  as  she  did  not  want  to  be  bothered  with 
letters ;  and  at  the  end  of  August  he  had  discovered 
that  the  famous  Harland  diamond  was  missing  from 
the  bank  where  it  was  always  kept.  It  turned  out 
that  early  in  the  month  a  young  lady,  whom  the 
bank  clerk  took  to  be  Miss  Harland,  came  for  the 
pink  diamond  and  carried  it  away  with  her,  leaving 
behind  a  receipt  duly  signed  "  Elfrida  Harland  "  in 
Miss  Harland's  writing — or  at  any  rate  a  very  good 
imitation  of  it ;  but  on  inquiry  it  was  found  out  that 
this  young  lady's  visit  did  not  occur  until  nearly  a 
month  after  Miss  Harland  had  left  London ;  and 
thereupon  the  bank  began  to  have  a  suspicion  of 
foul  play. 

Mr.  Fenton  was  very  much  upset  by  this  un- 

229 


230 


A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 


toward  event,  as  Elfrida  had  left  him  in  sole  charge 
of  all  her  affairs  during  her  absence ;  and  he  felt 
therefore  in  some  degree  responsible  for  the  disap- 
pearance of  the  famous  Harland  diamond.  He  was 
extremely  angry  with  all  the  people  at  the  bank,  and 
all  the  people  at  the  bank  were  extremely  angry  with 
each  other ;  but  this  merely  relieved  everybody's  feel- 
ings and  did  nothing  towards  recovering  the  lost 
jewel.  The  bank  clerk,  who  had  given  up  the  dia- 
mond, felt  not  the  slightest  doubt  at  the  time  that 
he  was  delivering  it  into  the  hands  of  its  lawful 
owner;  and  it  was  only  when  it  accidentally  trans- 
pired that  this  happened  some  weeks  after  Elfrida's 
departure  from  town,  that  any  anxiety  on  the  sub- 
ject was  aroused. 

Then  Mr.  Fenton  was  communicated  with,  and 
he  put  the  matter  into  the  hands  of  a  private  detective, 
whb  succeeded  in  tracing  the  stone  to  a  West  End 
jeweller's.  This  latter  had  re-set  it  in  the  form  of 
a  ring  for  a  young  lady  who  gave  her  name  as  Miss 
Harland  and  who  answered  equally  to  the  personal 
descriptions  of  Ethel  and  Elfrida ;  and  had  sent  it 
to  her  address  at  Sunnydale.  The  detective  there- 
fore arrived  at  the  obvious  conclusion  that  Ethel  had 
impersonated  her  sister  in  order  to  obtain  the  jewel 
which  was  said  to  bring  such  luck  to  its  possessor; 
and  he  was  confirmed  in  this  impression  after  he  had 
been  down  to  Sunnydale  and  had  learned  the  evil 
rumours  rife  there  regarding  Ethel  and  her  myste- 
rious manner  of  living. 

Mr.  Fenton  was  in  a  state  of  great  perplexity. 
On  the  one  hand  he  felt  bound  to  punish  such  a  cool 
and  barefaced  theft ;  and  on  the  other  he  did  not 
feel  at  liberty  to  arrest  Miss  Harland's  sister  on  a 
charge  of  robbery,  without  Miss  Harland's  per- 


SUSPICION. 


231 


mission.  He  inwardly  made  some  highly  unflatter- 
ing comments  upon  Elfrida's  unbusiness-like  ways 
in  going  abroad  and  leaving  no  address  behind  her. 
"  She  might  have  had  the  sense  to  know  that  some- 
thing of  this  kind  was  sure  to  happen,"  he  said  to 
himself ;  as  if  a  charge  of  theft  against  one's  nearest 
relations  was  an  event  of  everyday  occurrence  in 
fashionable  circles. 

But  here  Mr.  Fenton  was  not  peculiar.  Which 
of  us  does  not  feel,  when  a  friend  does  a  stupid  thing, 
as  if  that  particular  friend  had  been  doing  that  par- 
ticular stupid  thing  as  far  back  as  we  can  remember? 
Irritation  is  wonderfully  retrospective. 

However,  as  Elfrida  was  out  of  his  reach,  and 
likely  to  remain  so  for  some  time,  Mr.  Fenton  de- 
cided that  his  best  course  was  to  see  Miss  Ethel  Har- 
land  and  her  relations,  and  to  try  to  settle  the  matter 
if  possible  privately,  and  avoid  the  family  disgrace 
of  a  public  trial.  So  he  ran  down  to  Sunnydale. 

As  in  the  case  of  the  detective,  he  felt  himself 
seriously  prejudiced  against  Ethel  by  all  the  reports 
he  heard  about  her  in  the  village.  Of  course  it  does 
not  do  to  condemn  any  one,  least  of  all  a  woman, 
unheard ;  but,  after  all,  if  the  girl's  manner  of  living 
was  an  honest  one,  why  should  she  make  such  a 
mystery  about  it  ?  Mr.  Fenton  argued.  As  she  was 
five-and-twenty,  she  was  old  enough  to  know  that 
reserve  about  one's  private  affairs  is  the  height  of 
ill-breeding.  If  people  are  anybody  particular,  their 
private  affairs  are  either  details  of  Debrett,  or  else 
matters  of  history  as  set  forth  in  the  daily  papers ;  if 
they  are  not  anybody  particular,  of  course  they  pre- 
tend that  they  are,  and  so  ape  the  unreserve  of  their 
betters ;  and  if  English  people  are  not  anybody  par- 
ticular, and  do  not  pretend  to  be  anybody  particular, 


232 


A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 


it  is  safe  to  conclude  that  there  is  something  very 
wrong  with  them  indeed. 

Mr.  Fenton  had  not  studied  law  for  fifty  years 
without  learning  a  thing  or  two. 

The  old  solicitor  went  to  see  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Mor- 
gan, and  told  them  as  gently  as  he  could  (which  was 
very  gently  indeed,  for  Mr.  Fenton  was  a  gentleman 
of  the  old  school)  about  the  disappearance  of  the 
Harland  diamond,  and  how  it  had  been  traced  to 
their  granddaughter's  possession. 

Poor  old  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Morgan  were  very  civil 
and  obliging  to  him,  and  far  less  indignant  than  he 
had  expected ;  but  he  was  conscious  all  the  time  that 
they  were  holding  something  back,  and  that  they 
knew  far  more  than  they  would  tell.  But  they  as- 
sured him  that  they  knew  nothing  about  the  loss  of 
the  famous  pink  diamond,  though,  like  the  rest  of 
the  world,  they  had  heard  of  its  existence ;  and  so 
far  as  he  could  see  they  were  speaking  the  absolute 
truth.  They  made  no  demur  about  giving  him 
Ethel's  address  at  Silverhampton ;  and  to  Silver- 
hampton  therefore  the  lawyer  repaired. 

Ethel  was  forewarned  of  his  coming  by  a  letter 
from  her  grandmother ;  and  she,  in  her  turn,  fore- 
warned Jack.  The  latter  roared  and  raged  like  a 
lamping  lion,  which  was  but  natural,  and  threat- 
ened to  reduce  Mr.  Fenton  to  powder  if  he  put  as 
much  as  his  nose  into  Silverhampton.  But  at  last, 
after  much  feminine  argument  of  a  soothing  charac- 
ter, Jack  promised  that  he  would  interview  the  so- 
licitor in  Ethel's  stead,  as  she  vowed  that  nothing 
would  induce  her  to  be  brought  into  contact  with 
him. 

This  Jack  did ;  and  though  he  refrained  from  ful- 
filling his  original  intention  of  pulverizing  the  old 


SUSPICION.  233 

gentleman,  he  succeeded  in  making  the  short  con- 
versation between  them  the  most  uncomfortable 
quarter  of  an  hour  of  Mr.  Fenton's  existence. 

If  the  latter  had  been  surprised  at  the  calmness 
with  which  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Morgan  received  his  com- 
munication respecting  the  disappearance  of  the  Har- 
land  diamond,  he  had  nothing  to  complain  of  on  this 
score  in  the  case  of  Captain  Le  Mesurier. 

And  this  though  a  pink  diamond  was  at  that  very 
moment  blazing  upon  Jack's  little  finger. 

Mr.  Fenton  soon  perceived  that  it  was  absurd  to 
attempt  to  make  any  compromise  with  this  right- 
eously indignant  young  man,  and  therefore  decided 
that  the  matter  must  be  left  to  take  its  own  course 
until  Elfrida's  return.  After  that,  Miss  Harland  her- 
self must  decide  what  was  to  be  done. 

So  Mr.  Fenton  left  Silverhampton  with  ruffled 
feelings  but  convinced  judgment ;  for  he  had  seen 
the  famous  Harland  jewel  on  the  finger  of  Captain 
Le  Mesurier.  He  nourished  a  hope  that  between 
now  and  Elfrida's  return  Ethel  might  make  her  es- 
cape, and  so  avoid  the  disgrace  of  a  public  prosecu- 
tion. For  surely  the  loss  of  the  family  diamond  was 
a  lesser  evil  than  the  loss  of  the  family  reputation. 

Jack  Le  Mesurier  was  terribly  cut  up  by  the 
lawyer's  visit,  besides  being  violently  angry ;  yet  he 
loyally  forbore  to  ask  Ethel  any  questions  on  the 
subject,  and  he  bravely  continued  to  wear  in  the 
face  of  the  world  the  ring  that  she  had  given  him. 
There  was  no  doubt  that  Jack  was  a  thorough  gen- 
tleman. A  less  well-bred  man  would  have  left  off 
wearing  the  ring  even  if  he  had  refrained  from  ask- 
ing questions. 

"  Dear,"  said  Ethel  to  him,  "  how  good  you  are ! 
But  can  you  trust  me  a  little  longer  ?  " 
16 


234  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  Till  death,  sweetheart." 

"  And  you  don't  wonder  how  that  stone  comes 
to  be  in  my  possession  ?  " 

Jack  hesitated  a  moment.  "  I  will  not  allow  my- 
self to  wonder  about  anything  concerning  you,  dear. 
If  you  don't  choose  that  I  shall  know  a  thing,  I  do 
not  wish  to  know  it." 

"  Just  as  a  judge  pretends  not  to  know  anything 
that  has  not  come  out  in  evidence." 

Jack  winced  in  spite  of  himself  at  this  reference 
to  a  judge.  He  wished  Ethel  would  not  even  in 
jest  talk  about  such  horrid  things  as  judges. 

"  Ethel,"  he  said  seriously,  "  I  have  a  favour  to 
ask  of  you." 

"  Well,  what  is  it  ?  It  shall  be  granted  to  the 
half  of  my  kingdom,  if  the  moiety  of  a  woman's  king- 
dom is  worthy  of  a  man's  acceptance." 

But  Jack  could  not  smile.  "  I  want  you  to  marry 
me  at  once,"  he  continued,  "  here  and  now ;  and  so 
give  me  the  right  to  fight  all  your  battles  for  you  in 
the  future,  and  to  stand  between  you  and  the  world." 

Ethel  caught  her  breath.  There  are  many  varie- 
ties of  the  article  called  love  abroad  in  the  world ;  but 
surely  the  kind  which  induced  a  man  to  offer  to 
marry  a  penniless  woman  who  was  accused  of  dis- 
honesty, in  order  to  stand  between  her  and  the  world 
and  take  her  shame  upon  himself,  was  the  genuine 
article  and  no  electro-plate. 

"  You  see,  dear,"  Jack  went  on,  "  I  know  things 
are  very  horrid  for  you  just  now ;  and,  much  as  I 
love  you,  I  cannot  keep  them  from  hurting  you. 
But  if  you  were  my  wife  it  would  be  different,  and 
I  would  let  no  one  vex  or  annoy  you  then." 

"Then  you  do  not  think  that  I  stole  the  Har- 
land  diamond  ?  " 


SUSPICION. 


235 


"  Sweetheart,  I  know  that  you  didn't ;  but  I  want 
to  have  the  right  to  knock  down  every  man  who  is 
such  a  cad  as  to  suggest  that  you  did." 

Then  a  great  temptation  seized  Ethel.  If  once 
she  were  Jack's  wife,  she  thought,  nothing  could 
separate  them — not  even  the  discovery  of  her  secret ; 
and  so  the  fear  of  losing  Jack,  which  haunted  her 
night  and  day,  would  no  longer  assail  her.  All  her 
life  she  had  hungered  for  love,  and  it  had  been  de- 
nied her;  and  now  that  at  last  it  had  come  her  way, 
would  she  not  be  a  fool  to  let  it  go  ?  Surely  no  man 
would  ever  love  her  as  much  again,  and  with  such 
an  unselfish,  disinterested  passion ;  and  surely  she 
could  never  love  another  man  as  she  loved  Jack  Le 
Mesurier ! 

But  because  of  her  love  for  him  she  felt  she  could 
not  marry  him  without  telling  him  the  truth ;  and 
because  of  his  trust  in  her  she  felt  she  could  not 
marry  him  under  false  pretences.  It  is  only  when 
we  trust  people  a  little  that  they  are  able  to  deceive 
us ;  a  man  must  be  very  bad  before  he  deceives  any 
one  who  implicitly  believes  in  him ;  and  a  woman, 
however  bad,  is  incapable  of  doing  it  at  all.  So  great 
is  the  saving  power  of  faith. 

"  Jack,"  she  said,  "  it  is  just  like  you  to  want  me 
to  marry  you  now,  and  I  can  give  you  no  higher 
praise.  But  I  will  never  do  so  until  the  mystery  of 
the  pink  diamond  is  cleared  up." 

"  And  will  you  then  ?  " 

"  If  you  will  have  me.  And  oh !  my  dear,  my 
dear,  it  will  kill  me  if  you  won't." 

"  No  fear,"  laughed  Jack  as  he  took  her  in  his 
arms. 

But  he  did  not  know  then  what  the  mystery  was. 

In  spite  of  all  Jack's  entreaties  Ethel  was  obdu- 


2^6  A   DOUBLE  THREAD. 

rate,  and  persisted  in  her  refusal  to  marry  him  till 
the  truth  should  have  been  made  clear.  And  Jack 
was  obliged  to  abide  by  her  decision,  though  he 
chafed  sorely  thereat  sometimes. 

While  he  was  still  staying  at  Silverhampton  Sir 
Roger  sent  for  him,  saying  he  particularly  wished  to 
see  him  upon  a  matter  of  business  ;  so  Jack  left  Ethel 
in  Miss  Camilla's  charge,  and  repaired  to  Greystone 
for  a  day  or  two. 

Afterwards  he  bitterly  reproached  himself  for  hav- 
ing let  Ethel  out  of  his  sight.  But  how  wise  we  all 
are  after  the  event,  and  how  busy  we  are  with  the 
locksmith  after  the  steed  has  been  abstracted  from 
the  stable ! 

Jack  arrived  at  Greystone  just  in  time  for  dinner, 
which  Mr.  Cartwright  shared  with  him  and  his  uncle ; 
and  he  greatly  enjoyed  listening  to  the  talk  of  these 
two  clever  men  of  the  world,  though  it  was  some- 
times a  little  too  quick  for  him,  and  gave  him  an 
uncomfortable  feeling  of  running  after  them  on  tip- 
toe, like  a  child  whose  two  hands  are  held  by  grown- 
up people. 

When  the  servants  had  left  the  room,  Sir  Roger 
said  pleasantly :  "  I  have  sent  for  you,  my  dear  Jack, 
because,  contrary  to  my  custom,  I  wish  to  put  my 
finger  in  pies  not  of  my  own  making ;  and  your  pie 
is  the  one  I  have  selected  to  begin  upon,  just  to  see 
if  I  enjoy  the  exercise.  I  am  led  to  believe  that  this 
occupation  is  one  of  the  few  resources  of  the  aged ; 
so  I  wish  to  try  my  hand — or  rather  my  finger — at 
it,  while,  like  Portia,  I  am  not  as  yet  '  too  old  to 
learn.'  You  possess  all  the  estimable  qualities  of 
the  man  who  is  a  failure ;  and  I  wish  to  speak  a  word 
of  warning  to  you  before  you  allow  these  estimable 
qualities  full  scope." 


SUSPICION.  237 

"  I  suppose,  however,  it  is  always  a  man's  own 
fault  if  he  is  a  failure,"  said  Jack. 

His  uncle  shook  his  head.  "  No,  not  always ; 
but  it  is  invariably  a  man's  own  fault  if  he  lets  other 
people  know  that  he  is  a  failure ;  and  a  fault,  more- 
over, which  reacts  severely  upon  himself.  For  then 
they  cease  to  envy  him ;  and  an  existence  uncheered 
by  the  envy  of  one's  fellow-creatures  is  indeed  lonely 
and  desolate." 

Jack  experienced  the  old  feeling  of  helpless  de- 
pression which  his  uncle's  cynicism  always  aroused ; 
but  the  rector  only  laughed. 

"  Cartwright  does  not  approve  of  envy,"  added 
Sir  Roger ;  "  he  considers  it  is  his  duty  to  reprove 
rather  than  his  delight  to  arouse  it." 

"  I  was  not  treating  the  matter  professionally  just 
then,"  replied  Philip,  "  but  rrierely  regarding  it  from 
a  personal  point  of  view.  After  all,  to  be  envied 
merely  means  to  be  superior,  and  I  do  not  wish  to 
be  a  superior  person." 

"  Does  envy  necessarily  denote  inferiority  to  the 
persons  envied?"  wondered  Sir  Roger. 

"  I  think  so ;  I  never  heard  of  any  one's  envying 
an  inferior.  Therefore  to  become  an  object  of  envy 
is  merely  a  form  of  playing  to  the  gallery,  like  grum- 
bling at  the  responsibilities  of  wealth,  or  railing 
against  the  horrors  of  vaccination." 

Sir  Roger  smiled,  but  his  smile  was  a  little  win- 
try. He  hated  the  people  who  were  as  clever  as 
he  was,  but  he  despised  the  people  who  were 
not.  Therefore  he  enjoyed  Mr.  Cartwright's  soci- 
ety; since  the  objects  of  our  hatred  are  always 
much  more  interesting  than  the  butts  of  our  con- 
tempt. 

"  It  is  an  instructive  comment  upon  human  na- 


238  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

ture,  my  dear  Cartwright,  that  to  play  to  the  gallery 
is  usually  to  show  the  worst  side  of  oneself." 

"  Not  at  all ;  as  a  matter  of  fact  playing  to  the 
gallery  is  assuming  a  virtue  for  the  occasion  which 
we  do  not  really  possess ;  and  is,  in  short,  a  form  of 
cant.  It  is  not  only  showing  the  best  side  of  our- 
selves, but  pretending  that  our  best  side  is  a  great 
deal  better  than  it  is.  When  we  play  to  the  gallery, 
the  gallery  is  all  right ;  it  is  only  the  players  that 
are  a  little  cheap.  If  you,  for  instance,  stood  up  in 
a  costermonger's  cart  and  sang  hymns,  it  would  be 
neither  the  cart  nor  the  hymns  that  would  be  ridicu- 
lous. Yet  your  friends  would  smile." 

"  But  I  presume  it  is  part  of  your  artistic  sense 
of  the  fitness  of  things  that  a  clergyman  should  al- 
ways appeal  to  the  best  side  of  human  nature,"  said 
Sir  Roger  suavely ;  "  would  it  be  beside  the  mark 
to  ask  if  you  are  often  disappointed  ?  " 

"  No.  I  believe  that  the  man  who  persistently 
appeals  to  the  best  side  of  his  fellows  is  rarely  dis- 
appointed ;  and  that  the  man  who  persistently  ap- 
peals to  their  worst  side  is  disappointed  even  more 
rarely,"  replied  the  rector  drily. 

"  Human  nature  is  a  contemptible  thing,  but  I 
have  a  certain  liking  for  it.  For  one  thing  I  under- 
stand it,  and  it  amuses  me." 

"  But  I  should  doubt  if  you  do  understand  it 
since  you  dub  it  contemptible,"  argued  Mr.  Cart- 
wright. 

"  My  dear  ecclesiastic,  you  shock  me !  Has  it 
not  been  the  object  of  all  religious  men — whether 
they  have  been  cloistered  monks  or  preaching  puri- 
tans— to  stamp  out  human  nature  in  themselves,  and 
still  more  in  their  friends?  " 

"  I  think  not.     Human  nature  may  not  be  the 


SUSPICION. 


239 


best  possible  nature,  but  it  is  our  nature ;  and  our 
business  is  to  cultivate,  not  to  crush,  it.  Let  us  be 
the  best  human  creatures  we  can  be,  but  let  us  still 
be  human !  For  to  try  to  make  ourselves  into  any- 
thing different,  is  as  absurd  and  artificial  as  clipping 
yew-trees  into  the  shape  of  peacocks,  or  colouring 
carnations  to  the  tint  of  Brussels  sprouts." 

"  My  dear  Jack,"  said  Sir  Roger,  turning  to  his 
nephew,  "  the  conversation,  owing  to  the  brilliance 
of  our  friend  here,  drifts  away  from  you;  but  the 
mention  of  such  vain  and  vernal  things  as  peacocks 
and  Brussels  sprouts  recalls  your  existence  again  to 
my  mind.  As  I  remarked  before,  you  appear  to  be 
studying  the  part  of  a  failure  ;  and  by  a  failure  I  mean 
a  man  who  sacrifices  real  property  to  ideal  properties, 
and  who  holds  all  the  honours  and  loses  all  the 
tricks." 

"  Well,  sir,  do  you  think  that  is  my  role  at 
present  ?  " 

"  I  fear  so.  I  greatly  fear  so.  If  you  are  a  man 
of  this  type  you  will  have  an  interesting  career.  In 
your  profession  you  will  earn  respect  without  re- 
muneration ;  and  should  you  turn  to  politics  in  after 
life  you  will  lose  elections  and  win  moral  victories. 
In  conclusion,  your  biography  will  be  written  by 
some  friend  whose  zeal  outruns  his  literary  ability, 
and  will  be  sent  round  to  your  successful  political 
acquaintances ;  who,  in  turn,  will  present  their  copies 
— uncut — to  the  free  libraries  of  their  respective  con- 
stituencies." 

"  The  nicest  men  I  have  known  have  been  fail- 
ures," interrupted  Mr.  Cartwright ;  "  in  fact,  I  am 
one  myself.  I  have  never  succeeded  in  getting  what 
I  wanted." 

"  My  dear  Cartwright,  you  are  confusing  terms. 


240  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

Success  is  not  getting  the  thing  that  we  want,  but 
the  thing  that  other  people  want.  You  possess  all 
the  attributes  that  I  have  vainly  longed  for;  there- 
fore I  dislike  and  admire  you  equally,  and  consider 
you  an  ideally  successful  man." 

"  If  I  have  got  the  things  that  you  want,  I  must 
say  that  your  wishes  take  a  strange  direction." 

"  Possibly ;  but  that  has  no  bearing  upon  the 
case.  The  only  things  worth  having  in  this  world 
are  a  handsome  person  and  social  charm.  You  have 
both,  and  so  my  envy  becomes  the  coping-stone  of 
your  triumph." 

"  I  do  not  know  that  social  success  is  a  proper 
attribute  for  a  parson,"  laughed  the  rector. 

Sir  Roger  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  Believe  me, 
it  is  the  most  influential  quality  that  he  can  have.  A 
preacher  who  rails  at  the  hollowness  of  a  world  that 
declines  to  visit  with  him,  is,  after  all,  not  unlike  the 
fox  who  lost  his  tail  in  a  trap  and  begged  all  his 
fellows  to  have  theirs  amputated.  But  a  prophet 
who  sees  the  world  at  his  feet  and  yet  despises  it, 
speaks  with  something  of  the  authority  of  the  Wise 
Man's  bitter  '  Vanitas  vanitatum/  and  of  the  Apos- 
tle's scornful  '  Are  they  Hebrews  ?  So  am  I.'  No 
one  can  afford  to  despise  anything  that  he  does  not 
possess." 

"  I  think  I  see  what  you  mean.  If  one  who  has 
reigned  in  Babylon  turns  his  face  towards  Jerusa- 
lem, Jerusalem  at  once  rises — in  the  estimation  of  the 
congregation  of  Mammon-worshippers — to  the  level 
of  Liverpool  or  Manchester,  or  even  London.  Yes ; 
it  is  strange,  but  it  is  true." 

"  Jack,"  said  Sir  Roger,  "  here  is  a  successful 
man.  Emulate  him  as  far  as  lies  in  your  power,  and 
alwavs  bear  in  mind  that  he  remained  a  bachelor. 


SUSPICION. 


24I 


Marriage  increases  a  woman's  social  success,  but  im- 
pairs a  man's ;  the  latter  attains  the  zenith  of  his 
popularity  before  the  third  volume  of  his  life's  story 
is  published,  and  while  the  leading  lady  is  as  yet  an 
unknown  quantity.  My  theory  is  that  all  women 
should  marry,  and  no  men ;  it  is  an  admirable  idea, 
and  the  only  objection  to  it  lies  in  the  difficulty  of 
working  it  out." 

Jack  laughed  a  false  laugh,  and  felt  himself  shriv- 
elling up  as  leaves  shrivel  in  a  frost. 

"  I  do  not  applaud  your  theory,  Sir  Roger,"  said 
the  rector.  "  I  think  that  marriage  is  even  better 
for  a  man  than  for  a  woman.  A  single  man  must, 
to  a  great  extent,  live  for  himself  alone ;  while,  be 
a  woman  never  so  unmarried,  there  are  always  whole 
rows  of  family  altars  (belonging  to  brothers,  and  sis- 
ters, and  nieces,  and  the  like)  inviting  and  expecting 
the  immolation  of  herself.  The  only  difference  be- 
tween the  married  and  the  single  woman  is  that  to 
the  former  self-sacrifice  is  a  luxury,  and  to  the  latter 
a  necessity ;  they  indulge  in  it  equally." 

"  Then  don't  you  agree  with  my  uncle  that  mar- 
riage makes  a  man  less  popular?"  asked  Jack. 

"  It  makes  him  more  popular  with  himself,  and 
decidedly  more  popular  with  the  woman  he  marries, 
and  considerably  less  popular  with  all  the  other  wom- 
en. But  the  man  who  really  cares  much  about  the 
opinion  of  all  the  other  women  must  be — well,  twenty- 
nine  at  the  most." 

"  But  you  think  married  people  happier  than  sin- 
gle ones,  don't  you  ?  "  persisted  Jack. 

"  Probably  happier,  and  certainly  wiser.  They 
have  drunk  the  whole  cup  of  life,  you  see,  and  know 
what  it  tastes  like;  while  the  others  are  like  people 
who  say  '  no  sugar,'  or  '  no  cream,  thank  you,'  and 


242 


A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 


so  are  in  ignorance  of  the  real  flavour  of  a  proper 
old-fashioned  cup  of  tea." 

Jack  nodded.     "  I  see." 

''  Besides,"  continued  Philip  Cartwright,  "  it  is 
always  better,  if  possible,  to  get  the  full  flavour  out 
of  anything — even  in  cases  when  the  flavour  may  be 
somewhat  bitter.  Personally,  I  feel  more  pity  for  the 
people  who  have  waited  on  the  bank  and  caught 
cold  in  their  hearts  and  souls  through  standing  still 
too  long,  than  with  those  who  have  been  bruised  and 
buffeted  by  the  full  force  of  the  stream.  At  any 
rate,  the  latter  have  lived,'  and  the  former  have  only 
existed." 

"  Still,  bruises  hurt  more  than  colds,"  suggested 
Jack. 

"  But  don't  kill  so  often.  Again,  have  you  ever 
noticed  that  there  is  no  spectacle  so  depressing  as 
the  ruins  of  a  house  that  has  never  been  finished? 
The  ruins  of  houses  that  have  had  their  day  and 
been  lived  in,  are  often  restful  and  beautiful  and  pic- 
turesque ;  but  the  decay  of  a  building  that  has  been 
begun  and  not  completed,  is  one  of  the  most  ghastly 
and  hideous  objects  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  So 
many  lives  seem  to  me  like  that ;  and  with  such  lives 
I  have  the  profoundest  sympathy." 

"  Cartwright,"  Sir  Roger  interrupted,  "  pray  be 
more  personal  and  less  general  in  the  tenor  of  your 
always  interesting  remarks,  and  warn  this  foolish 
nephew  of  mine  against  the  danger  of  losing  his 
head ;  a  danger  which,  I  fear,  besets  him  sadly  at 
present." 

"  No,  Sir  Roger ;  I'm  afraid  I  cannot  do  that. 
I  have  no  respect  or  regard  for  a  man  who  never 
loses  his  head.  It  is  the  men  who  lose  their  heads 
that  do  great  things.  The  principle  that  '  he  that 


SUSPICION. 


243 


loseth  his  life  shall  save  it/  has  a  wide  application. 
It  is  only  by  losing  our  hearts  that  we  win  love,  by 
losing  our  heads  that  we  win  fame,  and  by  losing 
ourselves  that  we  win  others." 

Sir  Roger  smiled  slightly.  "  You  are  very  clever, 
and  can  make  most  things  mean  what  you  want 
them  to  mean,  which  is  wisdom.  But  can  you  ap- 
prove of  a  young  man's  taking  to  wife  a  woman  who 
is  not  only  penniless  and  obscure,  but  who  is  sus- 
pected of  helping  herself  to  the  things  which  belong 
to  some  one  else  ?  " 

Jack  started  as  if  he  had  been  stung.  How  had 
this  horrible  thing  come  to  his  uncle's  ears,  he  won- 
dered? He  had  no  idea  of  the  penetrating  and  per- 
vading influence  of  ordinary  thoughtless  gossip. 
Men  without  sisters  seldom  have. 

That  is,  perhaps,  the  only  advantage  of  being  sis- 
terless — that  such  men  rarely  know  how  incessantly 
the  women  who  have  no  particular  interest  in  life 
talk  about  one  another.  And  it  is  the  fault  of  the 
sisters  alone  that  even  this  one  remains  to  be  weighed 
against  a  thousand  disadvantages. 

"  If  a  young  man  dared  to  say  as  much  as  that, 
I'd  knock  him  down,"  he  said  angrily. 

"  Naturally,  my  dear  nephew ;  and  a  very  proper 
course  to  pursue.  But  young  men  don't  say  such 
things  to  one  another,  you  know.  They  prefer  to 
let  their  friends  make  fools  of  themselves  in  peace, 
as  the  mistakes  and  misfortunes  of  a  contemporary 
are  never  wholly  flavourless.  It  is  only  when  we  see 
the  next  generation  committing  folly,  that  we  long  to 
interfere ;  which  proves  that  old  age  enlarges  our 
hearts  and  contracts  our  intellects  at  the  same  time." 

"  I  think,  sir,  I  would  rather  not  discuss  this  sub- 
ject," Jack  said  stiffly. 


244 


A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 


"  I  feel  sure  that  you  would  not ;  but,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  I  am  not  considering  your  pleasure  at  all. 
Had  I  been,  I  should  not  even  have  mentioned  the 
question,  much  less  proposed  to  discuss  it.  But  now 
I  will  be  candid  with  you — though  candour  is  not 
my  usual  role — and  tell  you  that,  as  a  man  of  the 
world,  I  consider  you  are  making  a  fatal  mistake 
in  marrying  Ethel  Harland.  I  never  had  a  con- 
science ;  but  the  locum  tcnens  which  plays  the  part 
of  a  conscience  in  my  own  mind,  tells  me  that  it 
is  my  duty,  as  an  older  and  wiser  and  much  worse 
man  than  yourself,  to  do  all  in  my  power  to  pre- 
vent you  from  committing  this  crowning  act  of 
folly." 

"  I  have  made  up  my  mind,  and  there  is  no  more 
to  be  said  about  it." 

"  Pardon  me,  there  is  plenty  to  be  said  ;  and,  what 
is  more,  I  am  going  to  say  it.  As  long  as  you  only 
proposed  to  marry  a  girl  without  money,  I  didn't  in- 
terfere. I  told  you  I  should  not,  under  those  cir- 
cumstances, leave  you  Greystone — that  was  my  busi- 
ness ;  but  I  never  endeavoured  to  dissuade  you  from 
enjoying  yourself  in  your  own  way — that  was  yours. 
But  now  the  case  has  assumed  a  different  aspect.  A 
woman  without  a  penny  may  make  a  man  happy — 
a  woman  without  prestige  never  can ;  and  although 
Elfrida  Harland,  as  is  probable,  will  decline  to  prose- 
cute her  sister,  the  latter  will  always  be  looked  down 
upon  until  the  mystery  of  the  pink  diamond  is  cleared 
up.  As  far  as  my  experience  goes,  prestige  is  the 
only  lasting  charm.  Beauty  fades,  wit  bores,  and 
wealth  is  expended ;  but  social  distinction  certainly 
never  loses  its  influence  on  this  side  the  grave,  and 
it  requires  a  superhuman  faith  to  realize  that  it  will 
«n  the  other.  In  fact,  I  never  yet  met  anybody  who 


SUSPICION. 


245 


did  really  believe  it,  though  they  all  pretend  that 
they  do." 

Jack  held  up  his  head  proudly.  "  I  will  see  to  it 
that  my  wife  is  never  looked  down  upon." 

"  My  dear  boy,  that  is  mere  bunkum — bunkum 
and  bluff.  If  other  women  look  down  upon  a  woman, 
all  the  king's  horses  and  all  the  king's  men  cannot 
make  them  look  up  again  until  they  choose ;  and  they 
will  never  choose,  if  she  happens  to  be  handsomer 
than  they  are.  But  they  will  make  life  a  hell  upon 
earth  to  the  woman,  poor  soul !  and  to  her  husband 
too." 

Philip  Cartwright  sighed.  "  I  am  afraid  that  is 
only  too  true.  And  yet  good  women  can  be  such 
angels  when  they  like." 

"  And  the  other  thing,  when  they  don't  like.  They 
appear  to  be  equally  at  home  in  both  parts,  the  dear 
clever  creatures,  and  they  alternate  these  parts  as 
they  choose,  and  no  man  can  order  their  goings. 
I  have  met  many  women  who  have  asked  men's 
advice,"  Sir  Roger  continued  meditatively,  "  but  I  do 
not  think  I  ever  came  across  one  who  was  guided  by 
it.  No ;  they  go  their  own  way,  whatever  anybody 
says." 

"  If  a  woman  really  loves  a  man,  she  will  never 
do  anything  she  knows  he  doesn't  approve  of,"  said 
Jack  didactically. 

His  uncle  smiled.  "  Pardon  me  ;  if  a  woman  really 
loves  a  man,  she  will  never  let  him  know  when  she 
does  anything  that  he  doesn't  approve  of;  which 
comes  to  the  same  thing — as  far  as  the  man  is  con- 
cerned. But  let  us  descend  from  generalities  to  the 
matter  in  hand.  You  are  going  to  be  got  out  of  this 
mess,  and  I  am  going  to  extract  you — with  or  with- 
out chloroform,  as  you  prefer." 


246  A  DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  I  decline,  however,  to  be  extracted,  thank  you  all 
the  same." 

"  Your  permission  was  not  asked,  most  agreeable 
of  nephews." 

"  It  will  always  be  withheld,"  muttered  Jack. 

Sir  Roger  poured  himself  out  a  glass  of  claret, 
and  sipped  it  thoughtfully ;  then  he  remarked :  "  It  is 
a  pity  that  yours  is  a  summer  engagement,  Jack — a 
great  pity !  " 

Jack  looked  puzzled  through  his  sulkiness.  "  I 
don't  see  what  that  has  to  do  with  it." 

"  Summer  engagements  are  so  much  more  difficult 
to  get  out  of  than  winter  ones,  because  of  the  letters. 
In  the  winter,  one  has  fires,  so  there  is  a  refuge  for 
both  the  love-letters  that  one  receives  and  the  love- 
letters  that  one  doesn't  send.  Of  course  the  love- 
letters  that  one  does  send  still  remain ;  but,  if  one  is 
a  wise  man,  these  are  but  few  in  comparison.  In 
the  summer,  all  one's  sentimental  effusions  are  con- 
signed to  the  conditional  immortality  of  the  waste- 
paper  basket,  and  so  may  rise  again  at  any  moment 
and  confront  one.  Yes,  love-making,  like  hunting, 
is  properly  a  winter  sport;  when  carried  on  in  the 
summer  it  is  only  for  cubs." 

"  I  cannot  argue  with  you,  sir,  you  are  much  too 
clever  for  me.  But  I  know  my  own  mind,  and  I 
know  that  I  will  never  give  up  Ethel  Harland." 

Sir  Roger  raised  his  small  white  hands  in  despair. 
"  Then  your  career  is  spoiled,  and  your  chance  of  hap- 
piness also.  A  wife,  like  a  joke,  should  require  no 
explanation.  A  man  once  said  to  me  that  it  was  im- 
possible to  really  respect  a  woman  who  invariably 
walked  last  out  of  the  dining-room." 

"  Nobody  but  a  fool  would  make  such  a  remark 
as  that,"  said  Jack  angrily. 


SUSPICION. 


247 


"  Possibly.  It  was  a  fool  who  made  it.  But  as 
society  is  principally  composed  of  fools,  their  opinion 
on  any  question  is  worth  considering.  If  no  fool  will 
call  upon  you  and  your  wife,  you  will  have  but  a 
small  visiting  acquaintance,  my  dear  Jack.  Cart- 
wright,  cannot  you  say  something  to  instil  wisdom 
into  this  insane  and  socially  suicidal  young  man  ?  " 

The  rector  shook  his  head.  "  I  am  afraid  he  has 
already  more  wisdom  than  you  and  I  put  together. 
The  wise  man,  like  his  brother  the  poet,  is  born,  not 
made ;  and  age  brings  us  nothing  better  than  experi- 
ence, which  is  to  wisdom  what  wooden  legs  are  to 
real  ones — better  than  nothing,  perhaps,  but  a  poor 
substitute." 

But  Sir  Roger  persisted.  "  Jack,  my  boy,  give  the 
girl  up.  She  will  ruin  your  prospects  and  she  will 
never  make  you  happy." 

"  My  idea  was  to  improve  her  prospects  and  to 
make  her  happy,"  replied  Jack  drily ;  "  and  I  don't 
quite  see  what  the  other  side  of  the  question  has  to 
do  with  the  matter." 

"  That's  right !  "  agreed  Philip.  "  As  I  told  you, 
Sir  Roger,  the  fellow  is  wiser  than  you  and  I  are 
after  all." 

"  He  hasn't  got  half  our  sense." 

"  Not  a  quarter  of  it ;  and  that  is  why  he  has 
room  for  so  much  more  wisdom." 

Sir  Roger  smiled.  "  I  should  have  called  the  two 
synonymous." 

"  Far  from  it.  Wisdom  comes  direct  from 
Heaven,  while  sense  is  picked  up  on  the  Stock  Ex- 
change or  in  London  society." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Jack  simply.  He  felt  better, 
now  that  Philip  Cartwright  had  entered  the  lists  as 
his  champion. 


248  A  DOUBLE   THREAD. 

The  rector  continued.  "  Don't  take  away  -his 
Aladdin's  lamp  of  heaven-sent  wisdom  and  youthful 
enthusiasm,  which  raises  fairy  palaces  and  obviates 
distances  both  social  and  geographical ;  and  then  offer 
him  in  its  place  such  trumpery  little  candles  as  you 
have  managed  to  light  at  the  fires  of  Vanity  Fair,  and 
which  merely  serve  to  show  up  the  dirt  and  the  cob- 
webs which  disfigure  all  temples  made  with  hands. 
Leave  him  to  marry  the  woman  he  loves,  and  to  fight 
her  battles  for  her ;  and  bid  him  fight  the  harder  the 
more  she  needs  it.  That  is  my  advice  to  you,  Sir 
Roger." 

"  You  wax  eloquent,"  sneered  his  host. 

"  Do  I  ?  Never  mind.  Eloquence  is  a  failing 
rather  than  a  fault,  and  one  grows  out  of  it  quickly 
enough  in  these  modern  days  of  the  apotheosis  of 
common  sense.  But  you  appealed  to  me  and  I  re- 
spond to  your  appeal.  That  my  response  is  not  in 
accordance  with  your  desires,  I  can  help  no  more  than 
Balaam  could.  A  prophet  cannot  bless  or  curse,  as 
he  plays  croquet  or  the  piano,  to  amuse  his  parish- 
ioners or  to  oblige  his  patron." 

"  And  do  you  venture  to  prophesy  that  my  mis- 
guided nephew  will  find  happiness  with  a  woman  who 
will  ruin  both  his  pecuniary  and  his  social  prospects  ?  " 

"  I  venture  to  prophesy  that  if  your  nephew,  or 
any  other  man,  sells  his  birthright  for  a  mess  of  pot- 
tage, and  deliberately  takes  the  lower  road  because  the 
higher  one  happens  to  be  steep  and  stony,  he  will 
regret  it  bitterly  in  this  world  and  still  more  bitterly 
in  the  next.  Can  you  look  me  in  the  face  and  deny 
that — in  spite  of  all  your  cultured  cynicism  and  world- 
ly wisdom — you  sometimes  envy  the  simpler  souls 
who  still  trust  man  and  love  woman  and  worship  God  ? 
Can  you  give  me  your  word,  as  a  man  of  honour,  that 


SUSPICION. 


249 


you  have  ever  known  a  moment  of  real  happiness  since 
you  forsook  all  your  enthusiasms  and  let  your  ideals 
go?  It  seems  to  me,  Sir  Roger,  that  it  is  you  who 
are  now  playing  the  part  of  the  fox  without  a  tail. 
Because  you  have  somehow  missed  the  best  in  life, 
you  advise  your  nephew  to  throw  it  away  also,  lest  you 
should  be  annoyed  by  his  superiority  to  you.  This  is 
unworthy  of  you  as  a  man  of  the  world,  let  alone  any 
higher  consideration." 

"  Then  you  would  advise  me  to  leave  fools  to  enjoy 
their  folly  after  their  own  fashion  ?  " 

"  What  you  would  call  folly — yes." 

Then,  as  Philip  Cartwright  and  Jack  both  refused 
to  discuss  the  matter  further,  Sir  Roger  was  forced  to 
let  it  drop,  and  turn  to  other  things. 

When  the  evening  was  over,  Jack  saw  the  rector 
home  through  the  summer  moonlight;  and  as  they 
walked  together  the  younger  man  said :  "  It  is  sur- 
prising to  me  that  such  a  confirmed  cynic  as  my  uncle 
should  be  so  kind  to  me  and  show  such  an  interest 
in  my  affairs." 

"  People  always  possess  more  heart  than  they  ap- 
pear to  have,  except  those,,  humbugs  who  appear  to 
have  more  heart  than  they  possess." 

"  I  think  that  my  uncle  is  attached  to  me  in  his 
way,  and  takes  a  real  interest  in  me." 

"  I  am  sure  that  he  does.  If  he  cares  for  anybody 
in  this  world,  he  cares  for  you." 

"  I  suppose  there  was  a  woman  at  the  bottom  of 
his  cynicism,"  said  Jack  musingly ;  "  there  gener- 
ally is." 

"  Invariably,  I  fancy." 

"  Did  she  jilt  him,  do  you  know?  " 

"  No,"  replied  the  rector,  "  I  believe  not.  But  she 
was  young  and  beautiful  and  light-hearted ;  and  be- 
17 


250  A  DOUBLE   THREAD. 

cause  he  happened  to  be  plain  and  dwarfish,  she  re- 
garded his  devotion  as  a  comedy  rather  than  a  trag- 
edy. Women  are  often  like  this — even  nice  women. 
It  is  so  difficult  for  them  to  believe  that  what  appears 
ridiculous  may  really  be  pathetic,  and  that  what  ap- 
pears impressive  may  really  be  bluff.  In  the  same 
way,  if  you  want  a  woman  to  believe  that  you  love 
her  you  must  tell  her  so  at  least  once  a  week.  There 
is  no  other  possible  way  of  making  her  grasp  the  fact. 
Dying  for  her  would  not  help  in  the  least." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  haven't  a  very  high  opinion  of 
the  sex." 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  have  the  highest.  But  I  have 
not  a  very  high  opinion  of  men  who  jump  to  the  easy 
conclusion  that  women's  minds  are  cheap  editions, 
in  paper  covers,  of  their  own,  and  deal  with  them  ac- 
cordingly. I  think  a  woman's  love  is  so  well  worth 
having  that  it  is  even  worth  the  trouble  of  talking  to 
her  about  it." 

"  You  are  very  wise,"  said  Jack  respectfully ;  "  I 
shouldn't  think  you  would  make  many  mistakes  in 
dealing  with  women,  or  with  any  other  puzzling  ques- 
tion." 

Philip  smiled  rather  sadly.  "  Not  now,  perhaps ; 
but  I  have  done  so.  I  do  not  refrain  from  making 
mistakes  because  I  am  wise ;  I  am  wise  because  I 
once  made  mistakes.  It  is  only  by  daring  to  make 
mistakes  that  a  man  learns  wisdom  ;  and  it  is  so  expen- 
sive a  branch  of  education  that,  like  college  debts,  it 
generally  impoverishes  him  for  the  rest  of  his  life." 

Jack  was  silent  for  a  moment,  then  he  asked  :  "  Did 
the  woman  that  my  uncle  loved  laugh  at  him  ? " 

"  Yes ;  but  not  with  any  intentional  cruelty.  She 
was  purely  feminine,  and  so  could  not  separate  out- 
ward visible  signs  from  inward  spiritual  graces.  I  do 


SUSPICION. 


251 


not  think  she  would  ever  have  loved  him ;  but  if  he 
had  been  a  taller  man,  she  would  probably  have  con- 
fided with  tears  to  her  dearest  friend  the  story  of  his 
disappointment.  She  loved  and  married  a  remark- 
ably handsome  man ;  and  Sir  Roger  has  sneered  at 
mankind  in  general  and  womankind  in  particular  ever 
since.  At  least  that  is  the  story  as  I  have  heard  it; 
but  it  all  happened  before  my  time." 

"  I  wonder  if  she  was  a  nice  woman  ?  " 
"  I   am  sure   she  was,  Jack,  for  she  was  your 
mother." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

PERCY   WELFORD. 

"  That  glimpse  of  the  garden  across  the  way 

Has  left  me  henceforth  for  the  road  unfit : 
The  traffic  rolls  onward  from  day  to  day, 
And  sick  is  my  soul  at  the  sound  of  it." 

IT  is  a  noteworthy  fact  that  when  we  make  in- 
quiries about  anything  or  anybody,  we  generally  im- 
part more  information  than  we  receive.  This  was 
the  case  with  Mr.  Fenton  when  he  visited  Sunnydale 
in  order  to  obtain  glimpses  into  the  life  and  occupa- 
tion of  Ethel  Harland. 

Miss  Barber's  innocent  remark  at  the  evening 
party  had  laid  the  foundation  of  an  evil  report  against 
the  organist's  granddaughter ;  Mr.  Fenton's  visit, 
added  to  the  leading  questions  which  he  had  felt 
bound  to  put  to  Mr.  Welford  and  such  like  men  of 
mark  in  the  neighbourhood,  soon  raised  up  an  im- 
posing structure  on  this  foundation ;  and-  the  struc- 
ture when  raised  became  a  very  palace  of  delight  to 
all  those  who  called  themselves  Ethel's  "  friends." 

"  You  know  how  I  always  hated  Ethel  Harland," 
Julia  Welford  remarked  one  day  at  a  small  tea-party, 
"  even  before  I  knew  anything  against  her ;  and  that 
shows  what  acute  sensibilities  I  have." 

As  a  matter  of  fact  Julia  did  not  know  anything 
252 


PERCY   WELFORD. 


253 


against  Ethel  even  now — she  only  accepted  with 
avidity  other  people's  uncharitable  suggestions ;  but 
with  Miss  Welford,  as  with  wiser  folks,  knowledge 
merely  meant  the  adoption  of  such  beliefs  as  fell  in 
with  her  preconceived  opinions. 

"  The  poor  thing  has  no  mother,"  said  Mrs.  Wel- 
ford with  a  comfortable  sigh.  "  I  always  pity  girls 
with  no  mothers  to  look  after  them.  As  I  said  to  Mrs. 
Bailey  only  a  few  days  ago,  '  Mrs.  Bailey/  I  said, 
'  the  young  people  laugh  at  their  parents,  but  they 
could  not  have  done  without  us  all  the  same.'  And 
no  more  they  could." 

"  All  women  are  unjust  to  one  another,"  Percy 
remarked';  "  they  live  in  such  a  small  world  that  they 
lose  all  sense  of  perspective,  and  therefore  things 
which  are  actually  small  loom  large  before  their  un- 
accustomed eyes." 

"  I  don't  perceive  how  stealing  can  ever  be  merely 
a  question  of  perspective,"  snapped  Julia. 

Julia  Welford  would  always  use  the  word  "  per- 
ceive "  in  preference  to  "  see,"  and  "  commence  "  in 
preference  to  "  begin."  This  was  her  idea  of  culture. 

"  Oh !  my  dear,  you  shouldn't  make  use  of  such 
a  nasty  expression  as  stealing,"  remonstrated  her 
mother ;  "  it  isn't  ladylike,  and  it  isn't  kind,  and  I 
very  much  doubt  if  it  is  even  true,  for  I  don't  believe 
all  the  tales  about  Ethel  Harland,  indeed  I  don't." 

"  That's  just  like  you,  mamma !  You'd  take  any 
girl's  part  against  your  own  daughter.  It  doesn't 
matter  who  she  may  be,  but  she  is  sure  to  know  better 
than  I  do — in  your  opinion."  And  Julia  lashed  her- 
self into  a  small  fury  over  her  unnatural  mother's 
purely  fictitious  preference  for  Ethel  Harland. 

For  Julia  was  always  deliberately  hurting  herself, 
and  then  expecting  sympathy  for  the  pain  she  quite 


254 


A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 


unnecessarily  suffered.  And  though  the  cause  was 
purely  imaginary,  the  pain  she  endured  was  very  real 
indeed. 

Some  women  go  through  life  knocking  their  heads 
against  stone  walls  of  their  own  building,  and  suffer 
avoidable  agonies  accordingly.  These  are,  as  a  rule, 
the  clever  women. 

Others  take  good  care  not  to  build  any  stone 
walls  at  all ;  but  when  they  find  one  erected  by  Provi- 
dence right  across  their  path,  they  plant  ivy  and 
roses  to  cover  it,  and  then  pretend  that  there  is  no 
stone  wall  there  at  all.  These  are  the  still  cleverer 
ones. 

Julia  Welford  belonged  to  the  former  class. 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Welford,  you  are  quite  right,"  chimed 
in  little  Miss  Barber ;  "  that  poor  young  girl  has  been 
deprived  of  the  advantage  of  a  mother's  training,  and 
has  consequently  gone  astray.  Ever  since  I  heard 
this  terrible  rumour  about  her,  I  have  longed  to  do 
something  to  help  her,  and  to  supply  in  a  measure 
her  poor  mother's  place." 

Miss  Barber  spoke  in  all  sincerity.  She  had  not 
the  shadow  of  an  idea  that  it  was  she  herself  who  had, 
in  the  first  instance,  started  the  notion  of  Ethel's  dis- 
honesty ;  if  she  had  known  this  it  would  have  broken 
her  heart.  The  evil  that  is  "  wrought  by  want  of 
thought  "  is  not  the  least  evil  existent  in  this  world, 
though  frequently  undreamed  of  by  the  author. 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Bailey,"  Mrs.  Cottle  was  whispering 
confidentially  on  the  other  side  of  the  room,  "  I  was 
sadly  hurt  the  other  day  to  hear  the  way  in  which 
Mrs.  Brown  spoke  of  your  good  husband ;  and  I  feel 
it  only  my  duty,  though  a  very  painful  one,  to  repeat 
to  you  what  she  said." 

Mrs.  Cottle  actually  believed  that  the  so-called 


PERCY   WELFORD. 


255 


duty  was  painful  to  her;  and  this  belief  considerably 
increased  her  pleasure  in  the  performance  of  it. 

"  Indeed !  "  replied  the  vicar's  wife  coldly,  wonder- 
ing that  Mrs.  Cottle  was  not  old  enough  to  have  learnt 
that  when  A  repeats  B's  nasty  speeches  to  us,  we  do 
not  hate  B  anything  like  as  much  as  we  hate  A. 

"  It  was  his  ritualistic  tendencies  that  made  her 
speak  so  unwarrantably,"  continued  Mrs.  Cottle ;  "  she 
considered  that  they  quite  obviated  any  good  he  might 
do  by  his  really  powerful  discourses.  Now  here  I 
disagree  with  her,  and  I  told  her  so.  For  I  con- 
sider it  is  a  Christian  duty  to  forgive  all  those  who 
differ  from  us,  provided  we  are  convinced  that  they 
are  acting  conscientiously  according  to  their  lights. 
And,  besides,  I  think  it  was  a  great  impertinence  on 
the  part  of  Mrs.  Brown  to  presume  to  criticise  the 
vicar  in  that  way ;  but  Mrs.  Brown  always  has  given 
herself  unconscionable  airs  on  the  strength  of  her  late 
husband's  having  been  a  professional  man.  I  assure 
you,  positively,  she  looks  down  on  Mrs.  Welford  and 
myself ;  and  I  really  have  no  patience  with  such  snob- 
bery ;  have  you  ?  " 

"  I'm  afraid  I  haven't  much  patience  with  snob- 
bery of  any  kind." 

"  And  I  don't  blame  you,  Mrs.  Bailey.  I  feel  ex- 
actly the  same  myself.  It  really  is  ridiculous  for  Mrs. 
Brown  to  persist  in  walking  out  of  a  room  before  me, 
when  my  husband  could  have  bought  hers  up  ten 
times  over.  Not  that  it  affects  me ;  I  am  thankful  to 
say  I  have  a  soul  above  such  trifling  considera- 
tions ;  but  it  is  very  hurtful  to  one's  pride  to  be  put 
straight  on  a  question  of  etiquette  by  a  woman  whose 
income  is  less  than  a  tenth  part  of  one's  own." 

Mrs.  Bailey  smiled.  "  I  have  never  endured  such 
an  experience ;  for  a  woman  with  an  income  of  less 


256  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

than  a  tenth  of  mine  would  be  studying  '  the  customs 
of  the  House/  most  probably  as  a  pauper." 

"  And,  when  all  is  said  and  done,  Mrs.  Brown's 
refinement  is  only  superficial ;  true  refinement  would 
not  attach  the  importance  to  trifles  that  she  attaches. 
Would  you  believe  it? — she  actually  took  upon  her- 
self to  reprove  me  the  other  day  for  not  leaving  the 
correct  number  of  cards  when  I  went  out  paying 
visits.  As  if  it  could  signify  to  anybody  how  many 
cards  I  left !  Such  rubbish ! "  And  Mrs.  Cottle 
fairly  bristled  with  the  righteous  indignation  which 
we  all  feel  when  convicted  of  negligence  or  ignorance 
in  matters  social. 

"  Perhaps  she  meant  it  kindly,"  suggested  Mrs. 
Bailey. 

"Not  she!  Did  you  ever  know  anybody  who 
meant  it  kindly  when  they  told  a  friend  of  a  fault? 
I  never  did.  When  people  mean  kindly  they  don't 
mention  their  friends'  failings  at  all ;  that  is  my  doc- 
trine, and  I  am  sure  I  try  to  live  up  to  it,  Mrs.  Bailey, 
and  if  I  fail  it  is  my  misfortune  rather  than  my  fault. 
But  still  I  do  not  admit  that  I  was  in  fault  about 
the  cards.  As  I  have  told  you,  I  consider  that  true  re- 
finement ought  to  be  above  such  insignificant  trifles, 
and  therefore  I  do  not  stoop  to  trouble  my  mind 
about  them  ;  but  I  was  quite  correct  as  to  the  number 
of  cards  I  left,  for  I  had  carefully  studied  the  matter 
in  the  '  Answers  to  Correspondents  '  in  The  Queen." 

"  Then  if  you  knew  you  were  right,  why  take  any 
notice  of  what  anybody  says?" 

"  Because,  Mrs.  Bailey,  like  all  truly  refined  na- 
tures I  am  extremely  sensitive,  and  I  cannot  bear  that 
my  conduct — even  in  the  most  trifling  matters — 
should  be  called  in  question.  We  are  all  alike  in 
our  family:  we  shrivel  up  at  an  unkind  word  as  a 


PERCY   WELFORD. 


257 


flower  shrivels  in  the  east  wind.  And  it  is  specially 
hurtful  to  be  blamed  for  things  in  which  one  knows 
one  is  above  suspicion.  If  Mrs.  Brown  had  said  that 
I  neglected  my  husband  or  spoiled  my  children,  I 
could  have  borne  it — I  may  perhaps  be  a  little  too 
fond  of  society  to  be  a  perfect  housewife ;  but  to  sug- 
gest that  I  am  ignorant  of  any  matters  pertaining  to 
social  etiquette  is  an  indignity  which  I  could  not  bear 
from  an  angel  or  a  duchess,  let  alone  from  Mrs. 
Brown." 

Mrs.  Bailey's  eyes  twinkled.  "  I  have  always 
thought  that  people  were  sensitive  on  their  weak 
points,  rather  than  on  their  strong  ones." 

"  Then  you  were  mistaken,  Mrs.  Bailey,  utterly 
mistaken.  No  one  knows  more  about  sensitiveness 
than  I  do,  as  I  have  always  belonged  to  such  an 
exceedingly  sensitive  family."  Mrs.  Cottle  spoke  as 
if  people  wrere  in  the  habit  of  changing  their  ancestry 
in  middle-life :  some  people  are,  it  is  believed.  "  Now 
there  was  my  Aunt  Matilda,  whom  I  am  said  to  re- 
semble ;  it  was  a  source  of  great  regret  to  her  that  her 
husband  was  in  retail  rather  than  wholesale  trade ; 
and  so  exquisitely  refined  was  her  nature,  that  she 
never  once,  in  all  her  married  life,  allowed  her  hus- 
band's business  to  be  mentioned  under  her  roof. 
Such  true  gentility  as  this  is  innate  in  some  people, 
and  cannot  be  acquired  by  those  who  are  so  unfor- 
tunate as  to  be  without  it." 

"  I  suppose  not,"  said  Mrs.  Bailey,  and  inwardly 
returned  thanks  for  the  same. 

"  I  shall  never  forget  a  terrible  scene  once,"  con- 
tinued Mrs.  Cottle,  "  when  my  Aunt  Matilda's  hus- 
band so  far  forgot  himself  as  to  make  some  reference 
to  the  business  at  his  own  dinner-table.  As  ill  luck 
would  have  it,  some  of  my  aunt's  nicest  friends  were 


258  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

dining  with  her  on  that  day — or  rather  lunching,  I 
should  say — a  lady  and  gentleman  who  were  dis- 
tantly related  to  a  Lord  Mayor  and  extremely  in- 
timate with  a  Rural  Dean  ;  and  you  can  imagine  how 
painful  so  coarse  a  reference  was  to  my  aunt  in  such 
company  as  this." 

"  Was  it?" 

"  Oh !  most  terribly  so ;  she  had  such  a  superfine 
nature  and  such  genteel  sensitiveness.  I  was  not 
present  at  the  time,  but  I  believe  she  fainted  at  the 
table,  and  it  was  only  after  her  own  family  intervened, 
and  showed  her  it  was  her  duty  to  forgive  her  husband 
even  so  gross  an  insult  as  this,  that  she  consented  to 
pardon  him.  And  what  made  it  so  doubly  painful 
for  her  was  that  her  husband  could  not  see  wherein 
he  had  offended,  and  made  some  low  remark  to  the 
effect  that  those  who  weren't  ashamed  to  spend  the 
money  shouldn't  be  ashamed  to  make  it.  He  was 
very  sorry  that  she  was  upset,  but  he  refused  to  see 
what  there  was  in  his  behaviour  to  upset  her.  Ah! 
dear  Mrs.  Bailey,  think  what  it  must  have  been  to 
a  delicate  organization  like  my  aunt's  to  be  tied  to  a 
coarse-minded  man  who  was  not  even  ashamed  of 
his  own  business !  And  they  all  tell  me  that  I  am 
exactly  like  her." 

While  Mrs.  Cottle  thus  instructed  the  vicar's  wife 
in  the  racial  peculiarities  of  her  house.  Mrs.  Brown 
w,as  asking  of  her  hostess,  "  And  how  is  Mr.  Welford, 
I  should  like  to  know?" 

"  He  is  getting  on  comfortably,  thank  you,  very 
comfortably  indeed.  The  fact  is  he  has  given  up  re- 
ligion for  a  bit  and  taken  to  politics,  and  they  don't 
upset  his  temper  or  his  digestion  half  so  much,  I  am 
thankful  to  say."  Mrs.  Welford's  words  were  ambig- 
uous ;  but  the  meditations  of  her  heart  were  all  right. 


PERCY   WELFORD.  259 

Mrs.  Brown  sniffed  ominously.  "  Politics  indeed ! 
Don't  call  Liberalism  politics,  Mrs.  Welford,  if  you 
please ;  call  it  anarchy  or  Popery  or  anything  you  like, 
but  don't  call  it  politics." 

"  I  was  brought  up  a  Conservative  myself,"  apolo- 
gized Mrs.  Welford,  who  though  stout  was  timid ; 
"  my  father  was  a  very  strong  one."  She  was  a  loyal 
wife,  and  she  knew  it  was  wrong  to  be  ashamed  of 
her  husband's  principles,  let  Mrs.  Brown  rage  never 
so  fiercely ;  nevertheless  she  was. 

"  Then  I  wonder  you  are  not  afraid  to  look  your 
father's  spirit  in  the  face,"  said  Mrs.  Brown. 

Mrs.  Welford  would  of  course  have  been  terrified 
to  do  any  such  thing,  quite  apart  from  political  con- 
siderations, but  she  did  not  trouble  to  demonstrate 
this  fact  to  her  irate  guest ;  she  merely  replied  meekly : 
"  I  suppose  there  must  be  two  parties  in  the  State, 
or  else  the  country  would  never  get  on." 

"  Then  let  there  be  two  parties,  or  twenty  parties, 
or  two  hundred  parties  for  all  I  care ;  I  don't  mind 
how  many  parties  there  are  as  long  as  there  isn't  a 
Liberal  party ;  but  that  I  can't  and  won't  stand.  I 
am  not  narrow  or  bigoted,  as  you  know ;  and  I  would 
allow  all  people  to  hold  their  own  opinions,  provided 
they  were  correct  ones.  But  when  you  come  to  Radi- 
cal opinions  it  is  a  different  thing." 

"  What  is  it  that  you  so  much  object  to  in  the 
principles  of  the  Liberal  party?  "  asked  Mrs.  Welford 
with  a  sudden  spurt  of  courage. 

"  All  of  them ;  if  I  had  my  way  I  should  allow 
nobody  but  Conservatives  to  have  votes  at  all,  and 
that  would  save  no  end  of  trouble  at  a  general  elec- 
tion." 

"  But  why,  dear  Mrs.  Brown,  I  should  like  to 
know  ?  The  fact  is,  I  was  only  saying  to  my  husband 


26o  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

yesterday,  '  James/  I  said,  '  when  I  hear  you  talk,  I 
want  to  send  a  missionary  to  the  Conservatives ;  and 
when  I  heard  my  father  talk,  I  used  to  pray  to  be 
delivered  from  all  Liberals  ;  so  what  am  I  to  believe  ?  ' 
Oh  dear !  oh  dear !  it  seems  to  me  that  there  is  noth- 
ing so  unsettling  as  hearing  both  sides  of  a  question." 

"  You  ought  not  to  hear  the  Radical  side ;  that  is 
where  I  blame  you." 

"  But  I  must  listen  when  my  husband  talks  to  me," 
argued  Mrs.  Welford,  with  some  show  of  reason. 

Her  judge,  however,  was  adamant.  "  I  don't  see 
that ;  I  never  did." 

"  I  cannot  help  saying  that  it  seems  to  me  there 
is  a  good  deal  to  be  said  for  the  views  of  the  Liberals 
on  a  great  many  subjects,"  argued  Mrs.  Welford  with 
some  spirit ;  "  at  least  that  is  how  they  appear  when 
one's  husband  explains  them  to  one.  I  am  sure  if 
you  went  into  the  question  you  would  see  that  they 
have  several  legs  to  stand  upon,  and  that  there  is 
something  to  be  said  on  their  side  after  all." 

"  Nothing  would  induce  me  to  go  into  the  ques- 
tion— nothing !  When  I  disapprove  of  a  thing  I  don't 
dabble  in  it ;  and  I  should  never  go  against  my  con- 
science to  the  extent  of  hearing  the  merits  of  a  case 
which  I  knew  to  be  wrong.  I  am  thankful  to  say 
that  I  always  can  see  at  once,  in  any  argument,  which 
is  the  right  view  and  which  is  the  wrong  one ;  and 
from  that  moment  I  turn  my  back  on  the  wrong  one, 
and  never  have  anything  more  to  do  with  it.  It  is 
this  that  has  made  me  what  I  am."  Which  was  quite 
true. 

"  Still  I  cannot  help  wishing  that  you  could  hear 
James  explain  his  views,"  persisted  Mrs.  Welford. 

"  Nothing  would  induce  me  to  listen  to  him,"  cried 
Mrs.  Brown ;  "  do  you  think  that  I  should  still  be 


PERCY   WELFORD.  26l 

the  staunch  Conservative  that  I  am  if  .1  had  wasted 
my  time  and  undermined  my  judgment  by  reading 
Liberal  newspapers  and  listening  to  Liberal  speeches  ? 
And  do  you  suppose  I  should  be  the  contented  Chris- 
tian that  I  am,  satisfied  with  my  character  as  Provi- 
dence has  made  it,  and  not  trying  to  improve  either 
myself  or  the  Church,  if  I  had  exposed  myself  to  the 
influence  of  ritualistic  services  or  revivalistic  ser- 
mons ?  No,  Mrs.  Welford ;  I  have  kept  clear  of  all 
this  modern  craze  for  reform  and  improvement  and 
goodness  knows  what ;  and  in  return,  I  am  thankful 
to  say,  it  has  kept  clear  of  me."  Which  statement 
was  so  undeniable  that  Mrs.  Welford  did  not  attempt 
to  refute  it. 

On  her  way  home  from  the  Welfords'  tea-party, 
Mrs.  Bailey  fell  in  with  her  husband,  who  had  been 
visiting  some  of  his  sick  poor ;  and  her  heart  was  so 
hot  within  her  against  all  she  had  heard,  that  she 
retailed  it  to  him,  relying  upon  his  unfailing  powers 
to  see  things  as  others  saw  them,  and  then  to  put 
them  in  a  more  favourable  light. 

"  Isn't  it  sickening?  "  she  said  when  she  had  fin- 
ished her  recital.  "  It  makes  me  perfectly  heartsore 
to  listen  to  those  women's  mean,  petty  talk  about  all 
sorts  of  absurd  trifles.  And  they  say  such  spiteful 
things,  too." 

A  smile  stole  over  the  vicar's  thin,  ascetic  face ; 
his  wife's  impulsiveness  always  afforded  him  some 
tender  amusement.  "  My  dear,  they  are  to  be  pitied 
rather  than  blamed,  believe  me.  It  is  not  their  fault 
altogether  that  they  interest  themselves  in  gossip  and 
tittle-tattle ;  it  is  also  the  fault  of  the  narrow  places  in 
which  their  lines  have  fallen." 

"  Then  they  ought  to  widen  their  views  of  life." 

"  Of  course  they  ought,  Margaret ;  but  it  isn't 


262  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

exactly  easy  to  widen  one's  horizon  line.  Neverthe- 
less I  own  it  ought  to  be  done ;  and  the  only  way  of 
doing  so,  in  matters  spiritual  as  well  as  material,  is 
to  rise  higher  and  higher." 

"  Yes ;  that  is  true.  It  is  difficult  to  live  in  a  small 
world  and  not  grow  small  oneself  to  match  it." 

"  Very  difficult ;  and  it  is  almost  impossible  for  a 
woman,  who  is  born  to  a  commonplace  lot  with  a  com- 
monplace intellect,  to  make  her  world  a  larger  one. 
But  she  can  always  rise  higher ;  and  then  she  will  find 
that  the  nearer  she  gets  to  heaven  the  wider  views  she 
will  take  of  earth." 

"  Oh !  Charles,  I  wish  I  were  as  wise  and  as  pa- 
tient as  you  are." 

"  I  am  only  patient  because  I  feel  so  sorry  for  the 
poor  things.  1  know  it  is  their  fault  in  a  way,  but  it 
is  not  entirely  their  fault ;  they  want  more  inter- 
ests in  their  lives — even  the  married  ones.  Their 
minds  and  souls  are  starved  for  lack  of  proper  nourish- 
ment ;  and  as  starving  bodies  eat  garbage  rather  than 
nothing,  starving  souls  will  do  the  same.  Women 
who  are  above  the  class  that  systematically  work,  and 
below  the  class  that  systematically  play,  have  a  dull 
time  of  it ;  and  we  cannot  condemn  them  overmuch 
if  they  try  to  make  for  themselves  interests  out  of  the 
scanty  materials  at  their  command.  They  have  more 
restraint  and  less  excitement  than  the  classes  above 
and  below  them,  and  are  consequently  much  more  free 
from  great  faults  and  much  more  prone  to  small  fail- 
ings. I  should  say,  speaking  roughly,  that  the 
women  of  the  English  middle-classes  lead  the  best 
and  dullest  lives  of  any  women  on  the  face  of  the 
earth." 

"  I  am  inclined  to  agree  with  you." 

"  Of  course  there  are  many,  many  exceptions," 


PERCY   WELFORD. 


263 


Mr.  Bailey  continued ;  "  but  what  I  mean  is  that  dul- 
ness  is  the  special  pitfall  of  that  type  of  female  society, 
including  all  the  ills  that  dulness  breeds;  and  that, 
therefore,  these  women  should  be  on  the  look-out  to 
provide  themselves  with  more  interests  than  Fate  has 
thrust  upon  them.  Dulness  does  not  only  make  one 
feel  dull ;  it  deadens  one's  faculties  and  one's  capabili- 
ties as  well,  and  makes  one  a  poorer  creature  alto- 
gether." 

"  Then  you  think  that  women  of  the  Welford  and 
Cottle  and  Barber  type  want  more  amusement  ?  " 

"  Not  only  more  amusement,  though  they  cer- 
tainly want  that ;  but  more  enthusiasm,  more  idealism, 
more  mental  stimulus.  The  inward  vision  of  all  of 
us  is  formed  to  see  that  which  is  unseen  and  eternal ; 
so  that  when  we  adapt  it  to  the  minute  examination 
of  that  which  is  seen  and  temporal,  it  is  all  out  of 
focus,  and  perceives  only  distorted  images.  Those 
men  and  women  who  see  no  visions  and  have  no 
perception  of  that  which  is  invisible,  but  keep  their 
eyes  steadfastly  fixed  on  things  too  small  to  be  con- 
sidered at  all,  magnify  trifles  till  their  spiritual  micro- 
scope transforms  a  midge  into  a  monster,  and  a  drop 
of  rain-water  into  a  regular  witch's  cauldron." 

"  I  do  not  believe  that  Woman  could  ever  rise  to 
Man's  intellectual  level,"  remarked  Mrs.  Bailey,  after 
a  short  pause. 

"  Possibly  not ;  but  she  can  help  him  to  rise  to 
heights,  both  intellectual  and  spiritual,  which  he  could 
never  attain  without  her.  Woman  was  not  meant  to 
be  a  goddess  or  a  plaything  or  a  drudge;  she  was 
meant  to  be  a  companion  to  Man.  Therefore  the  so- 
called  strong-minded  women,  who  wear  themselves 
out  with  abusing  and  defying  men,  and  the  so-called 
domestic  women,  who  cut  themselves  down  solely 


264  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

to  the  ordering  of  dinners  and  the  counting  of  clothes 
for  the  wash,  are  alike  failures." 

"  Yes,  that  is  quite  true.  How  well  you  put 
things !  "  And  then  the  vicar  and  his  wife  arrived  at 
their  own  garden  gate,  and  had  to  exchange  abstract 
and  theoretic  conversation  for  concrete  and  domestic 
duty. 

Mrs.  Bailey  was  in  the  habit  of  taking  out  her 
husband's  views  at  intervals,  and  airing  them,  as  she 
did  his  linen.  Happy  is  the  man  who  has  some  good 
woman*  to  do  this  for  him ;  for  views — like  clothes — 
grow  mouldy  and  moth-eaten  if  they  are  kept  shut  up 
and  are  never  brought  out  into  the  light  and  air. 

A  day  or  two  after  his  mother's  tea-party  Percy 
Welford  ran  down  to  Silverhampton  to  see  Ethel  Har- 
land,  who  was  staying  at  the  Deanery  during  Jack's 
absence.  Percy  did  not  tell  his  mother  where  he  was 
going,  nor  why;  for  he  had  learnt,  like  wiser  folk, 
that  when  one  intends  to  perform  an  action  not  alto- 
gether in  accordance  with  the  prejudices  of  the  powers 
that  be,  it  is  as  well  not  to  mention  the  matter  in  the 
hearing  of  those  powers  until  after  the  event. 

Ethel  was  surprised,  and  by  no  means  delighted, 
to  see  him  ;  but  she  endeavoured,  with  her  usual  good 
manners,  to  conceal  alike  her  amazement  and  her 
absence  of  joy. 

Percy  expressed  himself,  as  charmed  with  the 
town  in  general,  and  the  Deanery  in  particular. 

"  It  is  a  most  fascinating  spot,"  he  said,  "  and  so 
beautifully  situated.  Its  position,  on  the  crest  of  the 
hill,  positively  reminds  me  of  Jerusalem  or  of  Rome." 

Percy  spoke  with  authority,  as  he  had  studied  pic- 
tures of.  these  cities  in  various  Sunday  books  ever 
since  he  was  a  child. 

"  And  that  is  a  most  elegant  vista  which  one 


PERCY   WELFORD.  265 

catches  sight  of,"  he  continued,  "  as  one  looks  west- 
ward from  the  central  square." 

"  Yes ;  it  is  a  pretty  view,"  remarked  Ethel  indif- 
ferently. 

"  But  the  opposite  prospect  is  indeed  a  depressing 
one.  How  sad  to  see  a  country  intended  by  Nature 
to  be  beautiful,  trampled  into  coal-dust  by  the  iron 
heel  of  Commerce !  "  sighed  Percy,  who  would  have 
lived  and  died  a  pauper  if  the  iron  heel  of  Commerce 
had  not  walked  his  way. 

"  But  I  thought  you  were  interested  in  Commerce, 
Mr.  Welford?" 

"  I  ? — with  my  artist  soul !  Oh  no,  you  never 
could  have  thought  that.  To  me,  buying  and  selling 
must  always  be  more  or  less  vulgar,"  Percy  replied, 
never  having  learnt  that  what  is  is  never  vulgar,  only 
what  pretends  to  be. 

"  I  see." 

"  This  room  too  is  very  effective,"  continued  Percy 
graciously ;  "  there  is  something  in  the  furnishing  of 
it  which  acts  as  a  sedative  to  my  jaded  spirit.  As  I 
look  round  me  I  feel  that  I  sympathize  with  the  in- 
tention and  am  in  harmony  with  the  design." 

Ethel  could  not  help  smiling  at  the  idea  of  Percy's 
being  in  harmony  with  anything  pertaining  to  Miss 
Camilla. 

"  It  is  furnished  in  very  good  taste,"  she  said. 

"  It  is  indeed,  with  admirable  taste.  Look  at  this 
small  table,  for  instance ;  what  an  elegant  conception  ! 
Such  artistic  finish  on  the  surface  and  such  delicate 
Corinthian  feeling  about  the  legs  !  " 

"  Miss  Desmond  has  some  very  fine  Chippendale." 

"  Then  look  at  the  paper,"  cried  Percy,  flitting 
about  the  room  in  a  very  ecstasy  of  appreciation; 
"  what  a  delicious  fugue  in  colour ! — what  a  perfect 

18 


266  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

sonata  in  tints !  Deliver  me  from  wall-papers  which 
are  crude  or  bright !  I  assure  you  that  a  sky-blue 
paper  makes  me  shudder,  while  a  yellow  one  turns 
me  absolutely  faint." 

"  Does  it  ?  How  awkward  for  you  !  "  Ethel  really 
was  very  unresponsive.  "  It  must  be  as  bad  as  not 
being  able  to  ride  with  one's  back  to  the  horses." 

"  Alas !  I  am  far  too  sensitive  to  outward  im- 
pressions. I  often  curse  the  day  when  I  was  born 
with  the  artist  temperament  and  the  poet  soul."  An 
anathema,  it  must  be  confessed,  which  was  totally  un- 
deserved by  Percy's  birthday. 

"  Indeed."  Ethel  was  not  in  the  least  interested 
in  Percy  Welford's  conversation,  and  she  was  too  un- 
happy just  then  to  pretend  that  she  was.  It  is  only 
when  things  are  going  well  with  us  that  we  can  simu- 
late an  interest  which  we  do  not  feel  in  the  affairs  of 
our  friends  and  neighbours.  This  is  the  reason  why 
happy  people  are  more  popular  as  a  rule  than  un- 
happy ones. 

"  But  I  did  not  come  here  to  talk  about  wall- 
papers," said  Percy  suddenly,  for  once  in  his  life  put- 
ting himself  and  his  opinions  on  one  side,  and  being 
a  better  man  in  consequence  ever  afterwards.  "  I 
came  to  ask  you  to  marry  me." 

"  To  ask  me  to  marry  you  ?  Don't  you  know  that 
I  am  engaged  to  Captain  Le  Mesurier  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  know  that.  But  I  also  know  that  cir- 
cumstances have  supervened  which  might  induce  the 
captain  to  reconsider  his  decision ;  and  if  that  is  so, 
I  want  to  tell  you  that,  whatever  happens,  it  is  always 
open  to  you  to  regain  your  place  in  society  by  be- 
coming Mrs.  Percy  Welford."  Strong  feeling  might 
make  Percy  act  like  a  gentleman  ;  but  it  was  incapable 
of  making  him  speak  like  one. 


PERCY   WELFORD. 


26; 


Ethel  tossed  her  head  scornfully.  "  I  suppose  you 
are  referring  to  that  absurd  report  about  the  Harland 
diamond.  Captain  Le  Mesurier  knows  as  much 
about  it  as  you  do,  and  he  has  never  insulted  me 
by  suggestions  that  the  malicious  gossip  of  a  pack 
of  old  women  could  ever  come  between  himself  and 
me." 

"  You  mean  that  the  captain  loves  you  so  well  that 
he  is  willing  to  marry  you  to  show  that  he  believes 
you  are  innocent  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  and  though  I  cannot  accept  your  offer,  be- 
lieve me  that  I  appreciate  your  generous  motives  in 
proposing  to  do  the  same." 

In  that  moment  Percy  Welford  grew  up  and  be- 
came a  man.  "  I  am  not  proposing  to  do  the  same," 
he  said.  "  Captain  Le  Mesurier  is  willing  to  marry 
you  because  he  believes  you  to  be  innocent ;  I  am 
anxious  to  marry  you  although  I  know  you  to  be 
guilty.  Therefore  he  and  I  do  not  stand  on  the  same 
platform,  Miss  Harland,  nor  love  you  in  an  equal 
degree." 

Ethel  started  up  from  her  seat,  and  her  face  grew 
very  pale.  "  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  mean  that  I  was  in  London  on  the  day  you 
took  the  pink  diamond  from  its  accustomed  place, 
and  that  I  saw  you  go  to  the  bank,  disguised  as  a 
lady  of  fashion,  and  take  it  out.  I  was  so  surprised 
to  see  you  dressed  as  a  fin^  lady  that  I  did  not  ven- 
ture to  speak  to  you ;  b'i":  1  remembered  the  incident, 
as  I  have  remembered  everything .  connected  with 
you  since  first  you  made  me  love  you  in  spite  of 
myself;  and  when  I  heard  Mr.  Fenton's  story  of  the 
pink  diamond,  I  understood  at  once  that  you  had  dis- 
guised yourself  as  your  sister,  and  taken  the  diamond 
out  of  the  bank  in  her  name." 


268  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  and  then  Ethel  said : 
"  Have  you  mentioned  this  to  anybody  ?  " 

Percy  drew  himself  to  his  full  five-feet-six,  and  an- 
swered proudly :  "  Never ;  and  I  never  will  as  long 
as  I  live.  I  am  the  only  person  who  knows  your 
secret,  and  I  would  die  rather  than  tell  it ;  but  I  want 
you  to  let  me  devote  the  rest  of  my  life  to  keeping  it 
inviolate  and  to  making  you  happy." 

Ethel's  eyes  filled  with  tears.  She  knew  Percy 
well  enough  to  understand  what  this  proposal  meant 
to  him,  whose  religion  was  conventionality  and  whose 
presiding  goddess  was  Mrs.  Grundy ;  and  she  realized 
how  much  he  must  love  her  for  such  a  proposal  to 
be  possible  to  him.  And  because  a  perfectly  pure  and 
unselfish  affection  transforms,  for  the  time  being, 
every  weakling  into  a  man  and  every  man  into  a  gen- 
tleman, Ethel  instinctively  did  homage  to  Percy  Wei- 
ford. 

In  the  busy  traffic  of  life,  human  souls — like  silver 
coins — are  apt  to  lose  some  of  their  value  and  to  be- 
come defaced.  But  now  and  again,  in  the  white  light 
of  an  exalting  emotion,  the  image  and  superscription 
which  they  bear  become  plain,  and  the  image  and  su- 
perscription are  not  Caesar's.  It  is  in  moments  such 
as  these  that  we  grasp  the  truth  that  this  world  which 
we,  in  our  ignorant  cynicism,  have  regarded  as  a  den 
of  thieves,  is  after  all  none  other  than  the  Fa- 
ther's House — defiled,  maybe,  for  a  long  time  by  the 
sordid  doings  of  the  money-changers,  but  the  Fa- 
ther's House  still. 

There  is  much  healing  power  in  faith — and  not 
least  in  the  faith  which  human  beings  have  in  one 
another ;  but  there  is  a  greater  healing  power  in  the 
charity  which  goes  on  loving  even  after  hope  has 
been  destroyed  and  faith  has  been  shattered.  There- 


PERCY   WELFORD.  269 

fore  Ethel  Harland's  view  of  life  was  ever  afterwards 
wider  and  truer  because  of  the  revelation  which  had 
been  vouchsafed  to  her  of  the  strength  of  love  as 
shown  forth  by  a  man  she  had  hitherto  despised. 

When  Jack  returned  to  Silverhampton  he  found, 
to  his  dismay,  that  Ethel  had  disappeared,  leaving  no 
address  behind  her;  and  neither  his  aunt  Camilla, 
nor  anybody  else,  could  give  him  any  clue  as  to  where 
she  was  hiding  herself. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 
JACK'S  APPEAL. 

"  But  yet  that  folks  are  all  like  you 

I  don't  believe,  and  shouldn't  care  to : 
There  is  a  friendship  that  rings  true 

Through  all  the  ills  that  flesh  is  heir  to  " 

IN  spite  of  all  his  endeavours  Jack  could  obtain 
no  clue  to  Ethel's  whereabouts.  She  had  left  Silver- 
hampton  immediately  after  Percy  Welford's  visit,  and 
had  told  no  one  where  she  was  going  to.  So  poor 
Jack  had  to  possess  his  soul  in  patience — a  most  un- 
satisfactory possession,  as  most  of  us  know  who  have 
tried  it;  and  he  also  had  to  persuade  himself  that 
Ethel's  sudden  and  mysterious  disappearance  did  not 
throw  at  all  a  lurid  light  on  the  matter  of  the  pink 
diamond.  That  she  was  unwise  to  have  run  away  in 
this  summary  manner,  he  admitted  ;  but  that  she  could 
in  any  circumstances  ever  be  anything  worse  than 
unwise,  he  would  not  allow  himself  to  suggest  even 
to  himself.  Fortunately  Jack  Le  Mesurier  was  not 
a  person  with  a  vivid  imagination  ;  which  saved  him 
and  his  friends  a  great  deal  of  trouble.  To  a  reporter 
or  a  novelist  imagination  may  be  a  necessary  evil ; 
to  a  private  individual  it  is  an  unmitigated  nuisance, 
and  to  the  private  individual's  friends  a  positive  curse. 

Jack  continued  to  write  letters  to  Ethel  at  her 
270 


JACK'S   APPEAL.  2/I 

Sunnydale  address,  in  the  hope  that  her  grandparents 
would  forward  them  to  her ;  for  though  they  professed 
that  they  did  not  know  where  she  was,  he  had  a 
shrewd  idea  that  they  were  deceiving  him  for  their 
own  purposes.  But  writing  affectionate  letters  to 
people  who  apparently  take  no  notice  of  them  is 
dreary  work,  and  accords  more  with  the  popular  no- 
tion of  prayer  than  of  correspondence.  Which  of  us, 
at  some  time  or  other,  has  not  heard  really  God-fear- 
ing persons  retail,  as  a  remarkable  coincidence,  the 
story  of  an  obvious  and  direct  answer  to  prayer  ?  And 
yet  these  good  people  would  have  been  astonished  be- 
yond measure  if  they  had  not  received  the  reply  to  a 
dinner-invitation  by  return  of  post!  Which  merely 
proves  that  the  religious  instinct  and  the  sense  of 
humour  are  situated  on  different  sides  of  the  human 
brain. 

At  the  appointed  time  Elfrida  Harland  returned 
home,  and  was  duly  informed  by  Mr.  Fenton  of  the 
loss  of  the  pink  diamond,  and  the  suspicions  which 
this  loss  had  aroused. 

"  Of  course  you  will  not  prosecute,"  concluded 
Mr.  Fenton,  "  though  I  endeavoured  to  frighten  Cap- 
tain Le  Mesurier  into  restoring  the  jewel  by  pretend- 
ing that  you  would." 

"  Why  '  of  course  '  ?  " 

The  lawyer  raised  his  eyebrows  in  surprise.  "  Be- 
cause you  are  dealing  with  your  own  sister." 

"  But  I  am  also  dealing  with  my  own  diamond," 
suggested  Miss  Harland. 

*'  My  dear  young  lady,  you  surely  do  not  mean  to 
suggest  the  possibility  of  instituting  legal  proceed- 
ings against  Miss  Ethel  Harland  ?  " 

"  That  is  precisely  what  I  do  intend." 

"  Pray,  then,  reconsider  your  determination,"  re- 


2/2 


A  DOUBLE   THREAD. 


monstrated  Mr.  Fenton.  "  It  would  be  a  most  un- 
christian act,  believe  me ;  and,  what  is  worse,  it  would 
involve  you  in  the  social  disgrace  which  it  would  en- 
tail. I  must  beseech  you  in  this  matter  to  allow  your- 
self to  be  guided  by  me." 

Elfrida  smiled.  Mr.  Fenton's  order  of  putting 
things  amused  her.  "  It  is  also  a  most  unchristian  act 
to  take  what  does  not  belong  to  you,"  she  remarked. 

"  Of  course,  of  course — most  unchristian,  I  admit ; 
and  there  is  no  one  who  approves  of  Christianity  more 
thoroughly,  and  endorses  its  precepts  more  heartily, 
than  I  do.  But  there  are  other  things  in  the  world 
beside  Christianity,  my  dear  young  lady,  and  we  must 
consider  them ;  we  must  indeed." 

"  I  never  heard  of  such  things ;  and  I  am  sure  it 
would  not  be  right  to  consider  them  even  if  1  had. 
Do  you  know  that  you  are  preaching  rank  heathen- 
ism?" 

"  My  dear  young  lady,  how  can  you  say  such 
things,  and  about  me  of  all  people?  Have  I  not  just 
told  you  that  I  consider  religion  a  most  admirable 
thing  for  every  one,  and  most  especially  for  young 
people  whose  characters  and  habits  are  as  yet  un- 
formed ?  "  he  said,  as  if  he  were  recommending  some 
particular  medicine. 

"  You  talk  about  religion  as  you  would  talk  about 
cod-liver  oil." 

Mr.  Fenton  looked  shocked.  "  I  must  beg  you 
not  to  speak  so  flippantly  about  sacred  matters;  it 
positively  pains  me  to  hear  you  do  so.  In  my  young 
days  people  were  brought  up  to  feel  a  certain  amount 
of  reverence  for  holy  things,  and  I  am  thankful  to 
say  that  the  habit  still  clings  to  me ;  but,  as  I  said 
just  now,  religion,  like  everything  else,  must  be  kept 
in  its  proper  place,  and  not  allowed  to  invade  prov- 


JACK'S   APPEAL.  273 

inces  which  do  not  rightly  come  under  its  jurisdic- 
tion." 

"  You  mean  that  there  is  a  time  to  be  good  and 
a  time  to  be  clever,  and  it  is  a  mistake  to  try  and 
do  two  things  at  once  ?  " 

Mr.  Fenton  was  slightly  ruffled,  as  was  but  natu- 
ral. The  man  who  enjoys  being  made  fun  of  by  an 
impertinent  young  woman,  must  either  be  more  than 
twice  or  less  than  half  as  clever  as  she  is ;  and  Mr. 
Fenton  was  neither  one  nor  the  other. 

"  I  did  not  come  here  to  discuss  ethics  with  you," 
he  said,  somewhat  stiffly.  "  I  came  to  ask  what  were 
your  instructions  regarding  the  theft  of  the  Harland 
diamond,  and  what  means  you  would  desire  to  be 
taken  towards  its  recovery." 

"  My  instructions  are  that  you  shall  write  to  Cap- 
tain Le  Mesurier,  who  you  say  is  acting  for  my  sister 
in  this  matter,  and  tell  him  that  I  intend  to  prosecute 
immediately  unless  the  stone  is  returned." 

The  lawyer  shook  his  head.  "  It  is  a  most  un- 
sisterly  act,  and  will,  I  am  convinced,  cause  people 
to  think  and  speak  ill  of  you." 

"  I  can't  help  that ;  and  I  don't  care  in  the  least 
what  people  say  or  think  about  me." 

"  I  wish  with  all  my  heart  you  would  be  guided 
by  me." 

"  Well,  I  sha'n't,"  replied  Elfrida,  who  had  had 
too  much  of  her  own  way  all  her  life  to  stand  opposi- 
tion patiently.  "  And,  by  the  way,  do  you  think  Cap- 
tain Le  Mesurier's  devotion  to  my  sister  will  stand  the 
test  of  a  public  prosecution  ?  " 

Mr.  Fenton  looked. up  quickly:  so  the  wind  blew 
this  way,  did  it?  A  woman's  badinage  puzzled  and 
irritated  him  ;  he  did  not  consider  humour  a  womanly 
attribute  at  all ;  but  jealousy  was  a  thoroughly  fern- 


274  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

inine  quality  which  he  could  understand  and  allow  for. 
"  1  fancy  it  will,"  he  said  slowly. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  you  think  he  will  go  on 
caring  for  her  even  after  he  is  convinced  that  she  stole 
my  diamond  ?  "  asked  Elfrida,  trying  to  speak  care- 
lessly, but  unable  altogether  to  hide  the  anxiety  in 
her  voice. 

"  He  never  will  be  convinced  ;  he  is  the  sort  of  fel- 
low that  will  go  on  caring  for  a  woman  through  thick 
and  thin.  Have  I  not  told  you  that  he  was  convinced 
of  her  innocence  even  when  the  Harland  diamond  was 
blazing  on  his  own  finger?  And  can  the  folly  men 
call  love  go  farther  than  that?  " 

"  I  suppose  a  man  who  wasn't  in  love  would  have 
thought  she  had  stolen  it." 

"  A  fool  who  wasn't  in  love  would  have  known 
she  had." 

"  He  must  be  frightfully  fond  of  her,"  Elfrida  said 
wistfully. 

"  He  is  ridiculously  fond  of  her ;  there  is  not  the 
slightest  doubt  of  that.  But  that  is  no  reason  why 
you  should  lower  your  social  position  by  proving  to 
the  world  that  your  twin  sister  is  a  thief." 

"  Then  do  you  think  he  would  marry  her  in  the 
face  of  that  ?  " 

"  I  am  perfectly  certain  he  would ;  he  is  just  the 
plucky  sort  of  young  fool  to  do  an  idiotic  thing  of 
that  kind,  and  cut  his  own  throat  for  the  rest  of  his 
life.  I  have  no  patience  with  such  nonsense — none 
at  all !  " 

"  Still  it  is  rather  fine,  don't  you  think,  to  like  some 
one  else  so  much  better  than  oneself?  " 

"  Fine,  do  you  call  it  ?  I  cannot  for  the  life  of 
me  see  any  fineness  in  it.  Why,  bless  my  soul !  how 
should  we  all  get  on  in  this  world  if  we  kept  put- 


JACK'S   APPEAL.  275 

ting  some  ridiculous  woman  between  ourselves  and 
our  own  interests  in  that  way  ?  It  is  arrant  folly,  that 
is  what  it  is ;  and  calling  it  by  sentimental  names 
doesn't  make  it  any  the  less  foolish  that  I  can  see." 

"  You  mean  that  there  would  be  fewer  successful 
men  in  the  world  than  there  are  at  present  if  every 
one  '  went  about  doing  good  '  ?  " 

Again  Mr.  Fenton  looked  shocked.  "  My  dear 
young  lady,  I  must  beg  of  you  not  to  quote  Scripture 
in  that  flippant  way.  It  is  a  most  reprehensible  habit 
for  young  persons  to  fall  into,  and  is  with  difficulty 
cured  when  once  it  is  formed.  As  I  have  known  you 
ever  since  you  were  a  baby,  I  look  upon  myself  as  a 
kind  of  father  to  you ;  and  therefore  you  must  pardon 
me  if  I  take  too  much  upon  myself  in  pointing  out  to 
you  these  little  errors  of  speech." 

Elfrida's  eyes  twinkled.  "  Then  you  consider  it 
irreverent  to  apply  the  precepts  of  the  Bible  to  com- 
monplace events  ?  " 

"  Most  irreverent ;  surely  your  own  good  taste 
confirms  my  opinion." 

"  Is  it  beside  the  mark  to  inquire  whether  you 
think  it  irreverent  to  act  according  to  the  precepts  of 
the  Bible  in  everyday  life?" 

Now  Mr.  Fenton  was  one  of  those  excellent  men 
who  would  rather  have  gone  to  the  stake  than  not 
wear  a  top  hat  on  a  Sunday ;  therefore  he  felt  he  did 
well  to  be  angry  when  a  chit  of  a  girl,  young  enough 
to  be  his  granddaughter,  took  upon  herself  to  reprove 
him  in  this  manner.  "  My  dear  Miss  Harland,  as  I 
have  told  you  before,  it  is  a  mistake  to  confound 
things  which  are  intrinsically  diverse.  Religion  is 
religion,  and  business  is  business,  and  you  will  suc- 
ceed in  neither  if  you  do  not  keep  them  properly  apart. 
I  have  always  done  so ;  and  I  flatter  myself  that  I  have 


276  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

never  neglected  either  of  them."  And  the  worthy 
man's  conscience  positively  glowed  within  him  as  it 
recalled  his  patient  continuance  in  the  wearing  of  the 
top  hat  and  the  keeping  of  office  hours. 

"  I  must  now  say  good-morning,"  added  Mr. 
Fenton,  rising  from  his  seat ;  "  but  before  doing  so  I 
must  utter  a  final  entreaty  that  you  will  come  to  a 
different  conclusion  with  reference  to  your  dealings 
with  your  sister.  Forgive  me  for  speaking  strongly, 
but  I  feel  strongly;  and,  believe  me,  I  know  better 
than  you  do,  and  so  am  competent  to  advise  you  in 
this  matter." 

Elfrida  said  good-bye  to  her  old  friend  with  the 
irritation  that  we  all  feel  towards  the  people  who  know 
better  than  we  do ;  and  when  he  had  gone,  she  fell  to 
musing  on  the  love  that  Jack  Le  Mesurier  was  capable 
of  giving  in  such  full  measure,  and  to  wondering 
whether  or  no  he  would  break  off  his  engagement  if 
she  persisted  in  the  course  she  was  now  pursuing.  It 
would  make  all  the  difference  in  the  world  to  her  if 
he  did,  she  thought ;  so  the  temptation  to  try  him  still 
further  proved  too  much  for  her. 

Her  meditations  were  broken  in  upon  by  Lady 
Silverhampton,  who  was  ushered  into  the  room  in 
the  most  elegant  of  toilettes. 

"  You  darling,  how  sweet  of  you  to  be  at  home ! 
I  am  dying  for  some  luncheon,  and  I  knew  you  would 
give  me  some  if  you  were  in.  There's  no  one  lunch- 
ing with  me  to-day,  and  I  really  cannot  take  my  meals 
alone  with  Silverhampton  day  after  day;  it  is  like 
solitary  confinement  and  nuns  and  hermits  and 
things." 

"  I  am  so  glad  you  have  come,  dear,  for  I  want  to 
talk  to  you  about  something,"  replied  Elfrida  gra- 
ciously ;  "  I  want  to  know  how  much  a  man  will  stand 


JACK'S   APPEAL.  2// 

before  he  throws  a  woman  over.  I've  been  pondering 
the  matter  by  myself,  and  I've  consulted  my  solicitor 
about  it;  but  I  cannot  arrive  at  any  definite  conclu- 
sion." 

"  Can't  you  ?  Well,  I'll  help  you.  I  always  know 
more  law  than  a  lawyer  does,  because  I'm  a  woman. 
If  I  were  a  judge,  there  would  be  a  lot  of  time  saved, 
because  I  should  know  at  a  glance  whether  the  pris- 
oner were  innocent  or  guilty,  and  no  amount  of  evi- 
dence would  alter  my  decision,  and  so  no  witnesses 
would  have  to  be  called,"  said  her  ladyship,  settling 
herself  down  for  a  comfortable  chat. 

"  Still,  this  is  a  question  of  love  and  not  of  law." 

"  Then  a^  the  easier  to  learn  and  the  pleasanter 
to  practise !  What  was  your  question,  my  dear  girl  ? 
Do  you  know,  I  hardly  ever  hear  people's  questions 
because  I  am  so  busy  getting  the  answers  ready." 

"  How  much  will  a  man  stand  from  a  girl  before 
he  breaks  off  his  engagement  with  her  ?  "  repeated 
Miss  Harland. 

"  Anything,  except  her  dressing  badly  or  knowing 
better  than  he  does.  Oh,  my  dear,  haven't  you  learnt 
that  if  a  man  is  attracted  by  a  woman,  he'll  only  like 
her  the  better  for  breaking  his  heart  and  spoiling  his 
existence ;  while  if  he  isn't  attracted  by  her,  he  longs 
to  murder  her  every  time  she  sneezes?  That's  why 
I  like  men ;  they  don't  love  us  for  what  we  do,  but 
for  what  we  are  not.  They  are  dear  people !  " 

"  Then  what  do  women  like  us  for?  " 

"  I  don't  know :  they  never  do  like  me,  so  I've  no 
opportunity  of  judging." 

"  O  Evelyn,  what  a  story !  Heaps  of  women  like 
you  immensely." 

Lady  Silverhampton  shook  her  head.  "  They  like 
me  in  the  same  way  that  they  like  olives :  I  am  purely 


278  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

an  acquired  taste.  Things  with  spicy  outsides  and 
stony  hearts — such  as  me  and  olives,  you  know — are 
not  suited  to  the  normal  feminine  palate.  I  used  to 
hate  olives  myself,  but  now  I  like  them ;  they  taste 
of  hair-oil,  and  remind  me  of  kissing  the  top  of  Sil- 
verhampton's  head.  That  also,  by  the  way,  is  an  ac- 
quired taste." 

"  Evelyn,"  said  Elfrida  solemnly,  "  do  you  think 
a  man  would  go  on  loving  a  girl  if  he  found  out  that 
she  stole  things  ?  " 

"  Oh,  stealing  is  rather  a  large  order,  isn't  it  ? 
Still,  he  might,  if  it  wasn't  anything  to  eat.  I  always 
think  it  is  dreadfully  common,  somehow,  to  steal 
things  to  eat,  don't  you  ?  If  I'd  got  to  steal,  I'd  much 
rather  take  furs  or  jewellery  or  something  of  that 
kind  ;  it  seems  so  much  better  style." 

"  I  don't  think  a  man  would  look  at  it  in  that  light ; 
you  know — 

"  '  I  could  not  love  thee,  dear,  so  much 
Loved  I  not  honour  more.'  " 

"  I  call  that  a  stupid  sort  of  love-making,"  said 
Lady  Silverhampton  scornfully ;  "  the  sort  of  love- 
making  that  a  man  would  apply  to  his  second  wife.  I 
always  hate  a  man  with  a  sense  of  honour,  just  as 
I  hate  a  woman  with  conscientious  scruples ;  it  only 
means  that  they  won't  do  what  you  ask  them,  and  is 
nothing  more  nor  less  than  disagreeableness  and  in- 
digestion. You  may  safely  conclude  that  if  people 
are  subject  to  a  sense  of  honour  or  to  conscientious 
scruples  there  is  something  wrong  with  their  livers." 

"  But  a  man  would  have  to  be  frightfully  in  love 
with  a  girl  to  marry  her  after  she  had  been  accused 
of  a  crime,  wouldn't  he?  " 

Lady    Silverhampton    shrugged    her    shoulders. 


JACK'S   APPEAL.  27.9 

"  My  dear,  a  man  has  to  be  frightfully  in  love  with  a 
girl  to  marry  her  at  all,  unless  she  has  a  large  fortune 
— at  least,  so  it  seems  to  me ;  and  even  then  it  is  a 
mistake  from  his  point  of  view.  It  must  be  so  dread- 
fully dull  to  be  married  to  a  woman !  It  is  bad  enough 
to  be  married  to  a  man,  but  a  woman  must  be  a 
million  times  worse." 

"  I  suppose  when  men  are  married  to  us  they  find 
themselves  sadly  disillusioned,"  sighed  Elfrida. 

"  I  don't  see  that ;  and  it  is  entirely  our  own  fault 
if  they  are.  I  have  been  married  for  twenty  years,  and 
Silverhampton  still  thinks,  when  I  hurt  his  feelings, 
that  it  is  merely  unintentional  stupidity  on  my  part. 
But  it  does  him  a  lot  of  good,  all  the  same — in  fact, 
more  than  if  he  knew  I  was  setting  him  straight,  be- 
cause then  he  would  have  to  go  on  doing  tiresome 
things  just  to  show  me  that  they  were  not  tiresome, 
and  that  would  bore  me  most  awfully." 

"  Then  what  does  he  do  now?  " 

"  He  winces  at  my  nasty  speeches,  which  he  thinks 
are  only  clumsy,  and  I  pretend  I  haven't  seen  him 
wince ;  and  then  he  takes  care  never  to  expose  himself 
again  in  that  way  to  my  unconscious  irony,  and  loves 
me  with  the  protective  tenderness  which  all  men  feel 
towards  stupid  and  amiable  women.  Silverhampton 
is  devoted  to  me,  and  deservedly  so,  because  I  manage 
him  so  well." 

"  Evelyn,  you  are  very  clever !  " 

"  Oh !  I'm  clever  enough.  As  the  perfection  of 
art  is  to  conceal  art,  so  the  perfection  of  cleverness  is 
to  conceal  cleverness ;  and  people  always  say,  '  Lady 
Silverhampton  is  a  kind  little  woman,  but  nothing 
much  in  her,  don't  you  know  ?  '  " 

"  How  do  you  manage  to  conceal  your  cleverness 
so  successfully?"  Elfrida  asked. 


280  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  Chiefly  by  dressing  well.  It  is  only  the  badly 
dressed  women  who  are  ever  suspected  of  being  in- 
telligen^.  A  ready-made  gown  will  give  a  woman  a 
reputation  for  learning  far  sooner  than  any  university 
degree ;  and  if  she  does  her  hair  badly,  or,  still  better, 
does  not  do  it  at  all,  she  is  acknowledged  to  be  an 
artist  as  well  as  a  scholar." 

"  I  think  if  a  man  stuck  to  a  girl  after  she'd  stolen 
things  he'd  forgive  her  anything,"  persisted  Elfrida ; 
"  don't  you  ?  And  I  confess  that  my  faith  in  mascu- 
line human  nature  does  not  rise  to  the  height  of  be- 
lieving such  a  thing  possible." 

"  My  dear  child,  masculine  human  nature  can 
stand  anything  but  being  contradicted,  and  feminine 
human  nature  can  stand  anything  but  being  esteemed. 
That  horrid  old  Lord  Saltyre  once  said  that  I  was  a 
most  estimable  woman,  and  I've  thirsted  for  his  blood 
ever  since." 

"  What  made  him  say  such  a  vile  thing  about  you 
of  all  people,  Evelyn  ?  " 

"  He  would  bore  me  with  long  tales  about  '  un- 
earned increments,'  and  I  listened.  I  thought  they 
were  animals,  and  I'm  always  fond  of  animals,  you 
know,  and  interested  in  them ;  and  these  seemed  to 
increase  more  rapidly  than  even  rabbits,  judging  by 
his  statistics." 

"There  is  the  gong  for  lunch,"  said  Elfrida,  ris- 
ing; "come  and  have  some." 

"  Dearest  of  friends,  I  would  gladly  share  your 
last  ortolan  with  you,  such  is  my  unselfishness,"  re- 
plied Lady  Silverhampton,  following  Miss  Harland 
downstairs. 

Elfrida  had  not  been  back  in  town  many  days 
before  Jack  Le  Mesurier  called  upon  her ;  but  as  she 
had  made  up  her  mind  beforehand  not  to  accede  to 


JACK'S  APPEAL.  28 1 

his  entreaties,  she  wisely  decided  not  to  listen  to  them, 
and  therefore  was  not  at  home  to  him.  Daily  Jack 
called  at  the  house  in  Mayfair,  and  daily  was  refused 
admittance.  Then  he  wrote  to  Miss  Harland,  tell- 
ing her  that  Mr.  Fenton  had  informed  him  of  her  de- 
cision, and  entreating  her  to  reconsider  it.  But  El- 
frida  remained  as  adamant  for  a  week.  At  the  end 
of  a  week  she  began  to  think  how  nice  it  would  be  to 
see  Jack  Le  Mesurier  again,  as  she  was  beginning  to 
forget  the  exact  shape  of  his  nose. 

It  is  a  remarkable  thing  that  the  more  persistently 
we  think  of  people  the  less  distinctly  we  remember 
them.  The  absent  faces  of  our  dearest  ones  become 
blurred  in  our  recollections,  like  photographs  that  are 
out  of  focus  ;  while  memory  can  call  up  with  startling 
vividness  the  countenances  of  the  butcher  and  baker 
and  candlestick-maker  with  whom  we  dealt  a  dozen 
years  ago. 

Thus  it  came  to  pass  that  Elfrida  had  thought  so 
much  about  Jack  since  she  saw  him  last  that  she  had 
forgotten  what  he  was  like ;  and  as  she  was  too 
healthy-minded  a  woman  to  practise  gratuitous  self- 
denial  which  benefited  nobody  (a  most  profitless  and 
embittering  form  of  spiritual  exercise !)  she  wrote  and 
told  him  that  he  might  call  upon  her  on  a  certain 
afternoon. 

It  was  a  dreary  day  when  Jack  at  last  gained  ad- 
mittance to  the  house  in  Mayfair — one  of  those  dull 
afternoons  when  it  seemed  too  early  to  ring  for  lights 
and  too  late  to  do  without  them.  Nevertheless,  El- 
frida could  see,  even  in  the  subdued  light  of  her  draw- 
ing-room, how  white  "and  worn  he  had  grown  since 
they  met  last ;  and  at  the  sight  of  his  misery  a  pang 
of  remorse  shot  through  her  heart.  After  all,  it  was 
cruel  to  hurt  a  good  man  so ;  and  when  Elfrida  saw 
'9 


282  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

the  visible  effects  of  her  cruelty,  she  suffered  a  pass- 
ing qualm  of  repentance.  But  intermittent  repent- 
ance— like  intermittent  exercise — merely  upsets  the 
system,  and  does  nobody  any  good. 

"  I  know  you  have  sent  for  me  because  you  are 
going  to  be  merciful,"  Jack  began. 

"  To  you,  perhaps,  but  not  to  anybody  else.  I 
have  sent  for  you  so  that  I  may  make  you  understand, 
once  for  all,  that  your  path  and  Ethel's  must  of  ne- 
cessity lie  far  apart,  and  to  beg  you  to  give  up 
the  idea  of  marrying  a  girl  who  is  so  obviously  un- 
worthy of  you." 

"  Then  it  is  a  pity  that  I  have  come,  Miss  Har- 
land ;  and  it  will  be  a  mere  waste  of  time  for  me  to 
remain." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,"  said  Elfrida,  and  her 
voice  shook  with  excitement  in  spite  of  all  her  efforts 
to  keep  it  steady,  "  that  you  still  believe  in  Ethel  and 
love  her  after  all  that  has  happened  ?  " 

"  A  thousand  times  more  even  than  I  did  at  first, 
because  she  needs  me  a  thousand  times  more  than  she 
did  then." 

"  So  you  think  that  love  should  be  measured  ac- 
cording to  our  need  rather  than  our  deserts  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  about  measuring  it  at  all,"  replied 
Jack  simply.  "  I  only  know  that  the  woman  I  love 
is  in  trouble,  and  that  the  more  down-in-the-motith 
she  is,  the  more  determined  am  I  to  stand  up  for  her 
and  comfort  her.  I  am  a  stupid  fellow  at  expressing 
myself,  and  have  not  the  knack  of  putting  my  feel- 
ings into  words,  but  when  I  once  care  for  a  person  I 
do  care  for  them,  and  nothing  can  choke  me  off." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  would  stick  to 
Ethel  even  if  she  were  sent  to  prison  for  stealing  the 
famous  Harland  diamond  ?  " 


JACK'S   APPEAL.  283 

"  Of  course  I  would ;  and  marry  her  the  moment 
she  came  out.  I  wanted  to  marry  her  at  once,  and 
take  all  the  burden  of  her  troubles  on  to  my  shoul- 
ders ;  but  she  wouldn't  hear  of  it." 

"  Do  you  believe  she  really  did  steal  it  ?  " 

Jack  flushed  a  deep  red.  "  If  you  were  a  man  I 
should  knock  you  down  for  daring  to  ask  me  such 
a  question,  Miss  Harland ;  as  it  is  I  can  only  bid  you 
good-afternoon." 

And  he  marched  out  of  the  room  and  out  of  the 
house,  banging  the  doors  behind  him  as  only  right- 
eous masculine  anger  can  bang  them. 

After  he  had  gone,  Elfrida  sat  down  and  cried. 

For  the  next  few  days  Captain  Le  Mesurier  was 
very  miserable  indeed ;  as  he  could  glean  no  news  of 
Ethel  he  grew  increasingly  anxious  about  her,  and  he 
felt  that  it  was  hopeless  any  longer  to  expect  mercy 
at  the  hands  of  Miss  Harland.  Then,  to  his  surprise, 
he  received  the  following  note  from  her: 

"  DEAR  CAPTAIN  LE  MESURIER, — 

"  I  have  changed  my  mind,  and  want  to 
speak  to  you  at  once.  Come  and  see  me  to-morrow 
afternoon  at  four. 

"  Yours   sincerely, 

"  ELFRIDA  HARLAND." 

Jack  presented  himself  at  the  house  in  Mayfair  at 
the  appointed  hour.  Of  course  he  was  relieved  to 
find  that  Miss  Harland  was  melting ;  but  at  that  time 
he  was  so  anxious  at  Ethel's  prolonged  absence  and 
silence  that  he  could  give  his  attention  to  nothing 
else.  What  was  the  use  of  Elfrida's  clemency  if  it 
came  too  late  for  her  sister  to  receive  it,  he  won- 
dered? It  was  now  several  weeks  since  Ethel 


284  A  DOUBLE   THREAD. 

had  so  suddenly  vanished  from  Silverhampton, 
and  Jack  knew  no  more  as  to  her  whereabouts 
than  he  did  on  the  day  she  left.  So  it  was  with 
a  heavy  heart  that  he  inquired  whether  Miss  Har- 
land  were  at  home,  and  followed  the  butler  up  the 
familiar  staircase. 

Great,  however,  was  his  amazement,  and  still 
greater  his  joy,  on  entering  the  drawing-room,  to  find 
no  Elfrida  waiting  to  greet  him  with  her  usual  stateli- 
ness,  but  in  her  stead — Ethel. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

GUILTY    OR   NOT    GUILTY? 

"  You  took  my  faith  and  tore  its  threads 
Into  a  thousand  tiny  shreds, 

And  left  me  here  without  it. 
Had  I  defied  your  magic  sway 
My  faith  would  be  intact  to-day ; 
So  let  us  throw  the  rags  away, 

And  talk  no  more  about  it." 

"  MY  darling,  where  have  you  been  hiding  all 
this  long  time  ?  "  asked  Jack  when  the  first  fury  of 
the  lovers'  greetings  had  in  a  measure  subsided ; 
"  you  have  nearly  broken  my  heart  by  keeping  away 
from  me  so  long." 

"  My  dear  old  boy,  sit  down  and  I  will  tell  you 
the  whole  story;  only  you  must  promise  not  to 
interrupt." 

"  I  shall  not  interrupt  you,  but  I  expect  your  sister 
will." 

"  No ;  she  can't."     And  Ethel  sighed. 

"  Then  tell  me  your  story  at  once,  sweetheart ;  for 
I  am  simply  dying  to  hear  it." 

"  Once  upon  a  time,"  Ethel  began,  "  there  was  a 
rich  nobleman  who  had  twin  granddaughters." 

"  Oh !  I  know  that,  dear ;  that  is  ancient  history. 
I  want  to  know  the  story  of  the  last  few  weeks." 

285 


286  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  Well,  I'm  coming  to  the  story  of  the  past  few 
weeks  if  you  will  give  me  time;  but  the  past  few 
weeks  could  not  have  come  to  pass  if  they  had  not 
been  preceded  by  the  past  five-and-twenty  years ; 
could  they?  " 

"  I  don't  know.     I  never  thought  about  it." 

"  And  besides,  my  dear  Jack,  it  is  awfully  rude  to 
speak  of  anything  in  the  life  of  a  living  woman  as 
'  ancient  history.'  Where  are  your  manners  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  been  able  to  attend  to  them  of  late,  I 
have  been  so  wretched  about  you." 

"  Well,  then,  rub  them  up  now,  and  listen  politely 
to  my  story.  The  rich  nobleman  adopted  one  of  his 
granddaughters  on  condition  that  she  should  be  en- 
tirely cut  off  from  her  sister  and  her  mother's  people  ; 
and  he  brought  her  up  under  his  own  eye,  and  taught 
her  always  to  believe  in  money  and  never  to  believe  in 
men.  So  she  grew  hard  and  bitter  and  cynical,  and 
thought  that  all  the  men  who  wanted  to  marry  her 
were  in  love  with  her  fortune  and  not  with  herself." 

"  And  I  daresay  they  were ;  but  what  has  all  that 
to  do  with  you  and  me,  sweetheart  ?  " 

"  Wait ;  you  will  see.  Well,  this  poor  rich  girl 
was  left  alone  in  the  world  with  a  large  fortune ;  and 
she  made  up  her  mind  that  she  would  never  marry 
until  she  found  a  man  who  loved  her  for  herself  alone, 
and  who  didn't  care  a  rap  for  her  money  or  her  rank. 
But  she  couldn't  do  this  as  long  as  she  was  known  to 
be  a  great  heiress,  you  see." 

"Well?" 

"  So  she  pretended  to  be  a  poor  little  governess ; 
and  then  she  met  an  adorable  man — the  nicest  and 
handsomest  man  in  the  whole  world — who  fell  in  love 
with  her  just  as  she  was.  She  knew  that  he  wasn't 
after  her  money,  because  he  hadn't  an  idea  that  she 


GUILTY  OR   NOT   GUILTY? 


287 


had  any ;  and  it  was  so  delightful  to  her  to  feel  that 
at  last  somebody  cared  for  her  for  her  own  sake." 

Jack  looked  puzzled.  "  I  don't  quite  see  what 
you  are  driving  at,  dear." 

"  Don't  you?  I  am  trying  to  make  you  under- 
stand that  Ethel  and  Elfrida  are  one  and  the  same 
person,  and  that  the  rich  Elfrida  loves  you  because 
you  loved  the  poor  Ethel.  It  is  like  the  princess  in 
the  fairy-tale  who  said  to  her  lover,  '  You  kissed  me 
when  I  was  an  old  woman ;  I  kiss  you  now  that  I  am 
a  young  princess.'  " 

"  But  it  is  impossible — utterly  impossible !  "  ex- 
claimed Jack,  rising  from  his  seat  and  striding  up  and 
down  the  room,  as  he  always  did  when  he  was  ex- 
cited. "  I  don't  believe  it." 

"  You  must  believe  it,  for  it  is  the  truth." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  the  Miss  Harland 
I  met  at  the  Silverhamptons'  was  yourself  masquer- 
ading ?  Oh !  no,  no ;  the  very  idea  is  absurd." 

"  Absurd  or  not,  it  is  the  truth,"  replied  Elfrida 
meekly ;  "  I  swear  it  is."  She  was  beginning  to  see 
that  her  fears  were  about  to  be  realized,  and  that  Jack 
was  going  to  be  as  angry  as,  in  her  despondent  mo- 
ments, she  had  dreaded.  "  Don't  you  know  me  now, 
and  can't  you  recognize  me  in  my  shabby  old 
clothes?"  she  continued,  dropping  into  an  indiffer- 
ent drawl,  and  speaking  in  Elfrida's  usual  blase  man- 
ner ;  "  it  is  fine  feathers  that  make  fine  birds,  you 
see." 

"  Good  heavens !  I  see  the  likeness  when  you 
speak  like  that,"  exclaimed  Jack ;  "  but  even  now  I 
cannot  believe  it.  And  may  I  ask,"  he  continued 
with  rising  anger,  "  if  your  pretended  affection  for  me 
was  part  of  the  masquerading,  too  ?  " 

"  No,  no ;  a  thousand  times  no.     I  loved  you  with 


288  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

my  whole  heart  when  I  was  Ethel  and  when  I  was 
Elfrida.  There  was  no  pretence  about  that." 

Jack's  face  was  white  and  stern.  "  What  ever 
induced  you  to  play  such  a  mad  prank  as  this  ?  " 

"  I  have  told  you.  The  poor  rich  girl  we  were 
talking  about  was  so  sick  of  being  liked  only  for  the 
sake  of  her  money  that  she  felt  she  must  find  one 
man  who  cared  for  herself  alone,  or  else  she  would 
die  of  loneliness  and  misery ;  and  when  at  last  she  did 
find  him,  she  nearly  went  mad  with  the  joy  of  it. 
And  I  never  told  you  an  actual  lie,  dear;  I  didn't 
really.  It  is  true  that  Ethel  and  I  are  now  separated 
by  an  impassable  gulf,  and  that  she  is  beyond  the 
reach  of  my  friendship  or  my  money,  and  that  you 
can  never  marry  her.  I  never  said  a  word  to  you 
about  my  sister  that  wasn't  true.  Oh !  Jack,  can't 
you  understand  what  it  meant  to  the  rich  girl  to  find 
a  man  who  could  love  her  like  that?  " 

"  Perfectly ;  and  when  she  found  that  she  could 
fool  him  to  the  extent  of  making  him  believe  she  was 
poor,  she  thought  she  would  have  some  more  fun  out 
of  the  poor  idiot ;  so  then  she  tried  to  fool  him  to  the 
extent  of  believing  that  she  was  dishonest.  Truly  it 
was  an  ingenious  device  to  prove  what  a  fool  a  man 
in  love  could  be !  " 

"  But  she  didn't  succeed  in  making  him  think  she 
was  dishonest,"  continued  the  girl  coaxingly ;  "  that 
is  where  the  man  was  such  a  dear.  He  trusted  her 
and  stuck  to  her  in  spite  of  everything;  and  so,  for 
the  first  time  in  her  life,  she  believed  in  a  man's  love." 

"  And  believing  in  it  made  it  her  plaything,"  said 
Jack  bitterly.  "  How  like  a  woman !  I  should  have 
thought  that  an  inferior  kind  of  love  would  have  been 
good  enough  to  play  with ;  but  women's  toys  must 
be  only  of  the  best." 


GUILTY  OR  NOT   GUILTY? 


289 


"  But,  Jack  dear,  I  did  so  want  to  know  if  you 
really  loved  me." 

"  And  couldn't  you  trust  me  without  deceiving 
me?  Surely  you  might  have  discovered  some  less 
cruel  way  of  proving  to  yourself  that  I  was  not  quite 
such  a  cad  as  you  had  been  pleased  to  imagine ! " 

The  girl's  eyes  filled  with  tears.  "  Jack,  are  you 
very  angry  with  me  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  angrier  than  I  have  ever  been  with  any- 
body in  my  life  before." 

"  Oh  dear !  oh  dear !  and  when  I  began  it  I 
thought  you  would  just  laugh  at  it  as  a  good  joke.  I 
never  imagined  then  that  you  would  be  vexed ;  really, 
truly,  I  didn't." 

"  Not  vexed  at  being  made  the  dupe  of  a  fine  lady  ? 
Not  vexed  at  being  fooled  by  the  woman  I  loved, 
and  made  a  laughing-stock  to  the  whole  world  ?  Not 
vexed  at  having  my  trust  betrayed  and  my  affec- 
tion trampled  in  the  dust?  It  strikes  me  that  you 
think  it  takes  a  good  deal  to  '  vex '  a  man,  Miss 
Harland !  " 

Elfrida  began  to  cry.  "  Won't  you  forgive  me, 
Jack?  I  am  so  awfully  sorry  I  did  it  now;  but  at 
the  time  it  only  seemed  to  me  a  good  joke,  and  I 
never  dreamed  you  would  take  it  so  seriously." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  cannot  forgive  you.  It  has  gone 
too  deep  for  that." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  after  the  way  you've 
loved  and  trusted  me  in  what  seemed  big  things, 
you'll  let  a  little  thing  like  this  come  between  us  ?  " 

"  It  isn't  a  little  thing  to  me.  It  is  because  I  loved 
and  trusted  you  so  completely  that  I  cannot  forgive 
you  for  deceiving  me.  Don't  you  see,  you  have  done 
the  very  thing  I  thought  it  was  impossible  for  you 
to  do?  You  didn't  steal  the  Harland  diamond,  it  is 


290 


A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 


true ;  but  you  stole  a  man's  affection  under  false  pre- 
tences, which  was  far  worse." 

Elfrida  only  sobbed  in  reply,  but  Jack  did  not  at- 
tempt to  comfort  her;  he  got  up  from  his  seat  and 
stood  leaning  against  the  mantelpiece  with  a  hard 
look  on  his  white  face.  After  a  few  minutes'  silence 
he  said  coldly  :  "  How  did  you  manage  it  all  ?  I  con- 
fess I  should  like  to  know  the  whole  of  the  story. 
But  first  tell  me,  have  I  ever  seen  the  real  Ethel  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Where  is  she  now  ?  " 

"  She  died  when  she  was  quite  a  child,  twenty 
years  ago." 

"  I  see.  And  now  will  you  kindly  enlighten  me 
as  to  how  you  duped  me  so  successfully?  " 

Elfrida's  heart  sank  at  the  ominous  calmness  of 
Jack's  voice :  she  had  never  heard  him  speak  in  that 
tone  before.  There  was  a  stillness  about  him  which 
was  far  worse  than  any  loud  outburst  of  fury. 

"  You  see,  Jack,  very  rich  people  never  have  the 
chance  of  knowing  what  they  themselves  or  their 
friends  are  really  like,  as  no  one  ever  speaks  the  truth 
to  them ;  and  I  grew  so  sick  of  my  life  of  empty  fri- 
volity, and  hollow  flattery,  that  I  thought  it  would  be 
so  nice  to  be  a  poor  girl  for  a  bit,  and  stand  or  fall  by 
my  own  merits.  It  suddenly  occurred  to  me  that  I 
could  do  this  by  impersonating  my  dead  sister." 

"  You  acted  the  part  well,"  said  Le  Mesurier 
coldly. 

"  My  mother  was  an  actress,  you  know,  and  so 
acting  came  easy  to  me ;  it  was  no  difficulty  to  me  to 
play  the  part  of  an  unsophisticated  girl." 

"  So  I  have  learned  to  my  cost." 

"  I  induced  my  grandparents  to  leave  the  neigh- 
bourhood where  they  were  known,  and  where  people 


GUILTY  OR   NOT   GUILTY? 


29I 


were  aware  of  Ethel's  death,  and  to  come  and  live  at 
Sunnydale ;  and  as  they  were  entirely  dependent  upon 
me,  they  agreed  to  my  plan ;  though  I  confess  they 
were  always  against  it,  especially  my  grandmother. 
No  one  in  Sunnydale  knew  anything-  about  us,  so  it 
was  quite  easy  for  me  to  take  the  part  of  the  poor  sis- 
ter while  I  was  there ;  and  as  I  had  no  maid  there, 
and  dressed  badly  on  purpose,  even  the  people  who 
had  known  me  as  Elfrida  Harland  did  not  recognise 
me.  Dress  makes  such  a  difference  in  a  woman's 
looks ;  and,  as  Ethel,  I  made  myself  as  dowdy  as 
possible." 

"  Admirably  thought  out !  " 

"  I  only  came  to  Sunnydale  as  Ethel  at  intervals ; 
and  that  merely  carried  out  the  idea  that  I  was  in  a 
situation  with  stated  holidays.  For  the  rest  of  the 
year  I  was  in  society  as  Elfrida." 

Jack's  lip  curled.  "  Most  cleverly  contrived  all 
through." 

"  When  I  got  the  pink  diamond  out  of  the  bank, 
it  never  occurred  to  me  that  there  would  be  a  fuss 
about  it ;  I  only  wanted  to  give  it  to  you,  because  of 
the  magic  powers  of  the  stone." 

"  Ah !  There  you  did  not  display  your  usual 
sharpness." 

"  I  really  was  getting  rather  tired  of  the  farce ; 
and  yet  I  was  afraid  to  end  it,  lest  I  should  end  my 
engagement  to  you  at  the  same  time.  When,  to  my 
surprise,  I  was  suspected  of  stealing  my  own  dia- 
mond, I  wondered  if  you  would  love  me  enough  to 
marry  me  in  spite  of  shame  as  well  as  of  poverty ; 
and  I  made  up  my  mind  to  try  if  you  would.  I 
thought  that  if  you  went  on  caring  for  me  after  that, 
you  would  go  on  caring  for  me  after  discovering 
how  I  have  deceived  you ;  so  I  decided  to  put  you 


2Q2  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

to  this  supreme  test,  and  then  to  tell  you  the  whole 
truth." 

"  And  my  folly  exceeded  even  your  wildest  antici- 
pations, I  understand." 

"  No,  no ;  your  goodness  fulfilled  even  the  high 
ideal  I  had  formed  of  it.  Oh!  Jack,  can't  you  for- 
give me  ?  " 

Jack  shook  his  head. 

"  But,  Jack  dear,  I  love  you  so." 

"  You  love  me,  and  yet  you  made  a  fool  of  me ! 
No,  Miss  Harland,  I  cannot  believe  in  such  love  as 
that." 

"  I  only  did  it  to  make  sure  of  you.  Can't  you 
understand  how  sick  I  was  of  shadows,  and  how  I 
wanted  to  find  one  true  heart  ?  " 

"  And  so,  having  found  it,  you  broke  it  to  see  if  it 
was  breakable.  Well,  it  was." 

"  Then  must  everything  be  at  an  end  between 
us  ?  "  Elfrida  pleaded ;  "  surely,  surely  you  cannot 
mean  that !  " 

"  But  I  do  mean  it.  Don't  you  see  that  now  you 
have  once  deceived  me  I  can  never  trust  you  again  ? 
And  love  without  trust  is  impossible.  But  oh !  how 
I  loved  you  and  believed  in  you !  "  Then  at  last 
Jack's  voice  broke ;  and  with  one  great  sob  he  rushed 
out  of  the  room  and  out  of  the  house,  leaving  Elfrida 
alone  with  her  misery,  while  the  house  of  cards  which 
her  folly  had  built  tumbled  about  her  ears. 

The  days  came  and  went,  and  still  Jack  did  not  re- 
lent towards  Elfrida.  People  in  their  third  decade 
do  not  readily  forgive,  because  they  are  still  young 
enough  to  expect  perfection  and  to  be  offended  at 
the  absence  of  it.  Under  thirty,  we  are  annoyed  be- 
cause our  fellow-creatures  are  neither  angels  nor 
fairy  princes;  after  thirty,  we  should  be  equally  an- 


GUILTY   OR   NOT   GUILTY? 


293 


noyed  if  they  were.  Which  proves  that  youth  is  not 
the  time  of  romance ;  for  it  is  easy  to  find  beauty  in 
a  knightly  hero  and  pathos  in  an  angel's  tears.  Any 
schoolgirl  can  go  as  far  as  that;  but  it  requires  the 
seeing  eye  and  the  understanding  heart  to  per- 
ceive the  heroism  of  self-sacrifice  amidst  sordid 
surroundings,  and  the  beauty  of  "  a  white  soul 
clothed  in  a  satyr's  form."  The  highest  love — like 
the  highest  art — is  the  love  that  sees  the  beauty  which 
is  hidden  from  the  common  gaze;  and,  seeing  it,  is 
able  to  interpret  it. 

Sir  Roger  soon  heard  of  the  state  of  affairs  from 
Mr.  Fenton,  and  he  sent  for  his  nephew  in  the  hope  of 
inducing  the  latter  to  forgive  Elfrida.  At  the  bot- 
tom of  his  heart  the  old  man  was  delighted  with  the 
girl's  escapade — there  was  an  insolent  daring 
about  it  which  appealed  to  him ;  and  he  also  could 
not  fail  to  relish  the  fact  that  his  quixotic  nephew 
had  been  made  a  fool  of.  The  mistakes  of  our  su- 
periors never  fail  to  afford  us  a  certain  amount  of  un- 
holy joy. 

But  though  his  uncle  argued  late  and  argued  long, 
Jack  would  not  be  moved.  He  was  now  as  deter- 
mined not  to  marry  Elfrida  as  he  had  been  before  to 
marry  Ethel.  And  Jack's  will  was  as  strong  as  Sir 
Roger's,  though  he  had  not  so  much  wit  to  back 
it  up. 

"  My  dear  boy,"  said  the  baronet,  after  a  long 
conversation  on  the  subject,  wherein  both  men  had 
done  full  justice  to  the  obstinacy  of  the  Le  Mesurier 
race,  "  to  decline  to  marry  a  woman  because  she  has 
deceived  you,  seems  to  me  as  foolish  as  to  decline  to 
eat  your  dinner  because  it  is  edible.  What  is  a  wom- 
an made  for  but  to  deceive  you,  I  should  like  to 
know  ?  For  my  part,  I  hate  transparent  women ; 


294 


A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 


they  are  as  unfitted  for  the  world  as  clear  glass  win- 
dows are  for  a  church,  and  spoil  the  whole  effect." 

"  I  like  women  who  speak  the  truth,"  persisted 
Jack. 

"  Do  you  ?  What  a  strange  and  perverted  taste ! 
I  wish  you  had  known  my  aunt  Lavinia :  she  was  the 
most  truthful  woman  I  ever  met,  and  I  confess  her 
peculiar  charm  was  quite  thrown  away  upon  me. 
She  prided  herself  upon  saying  exactly  what  she 
thought ;  and  I  have  often  wondered  whether  her 
thoughts  were  unusually  offensive,  or  whether  her 
expression  of  them  was  her  own  peculiarity." 

Jack  did  not  answer;  his  mind  was  so  full  of  El- 
frida  and  her  cruel  treatment  of  him,  that  he  failed  to 
hear  more  than  half  of  what  his  uncle  had  said ;  so 
the  old  man  chuckled  to  himself  and  rambled  on : 

"  I  shall  never  forget  how  she  used  to  make  people 
jump.  There  was  no  spot  on  their  reputations,  no 
blemish  in  their  persons,  that  she  did  not  openly  rail 
at ;  and  all  the  time  she  imagined  that  she  was  saving 
people's  souls,  while  in  reality  she  was  merely  spoiling 
their  tempers." 

"  I  see,"  said  Jack,  with  absent  politeness. 

"  She  was  a  strict  old  lady  too,  and  a  strong 
churchwoman,  and  she  always  laid  great  stress  upon 
purity  of  doctrine  and  of  life ;  by  which  she  meant 
rigid  adherence  to  the  teachings  of  Calvin,  and  strict 
abstinence  from  the  use  of  tobacco.  By  the  way, 
Jack,  you  are  not  listening  to  me." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  said  Jack,  pulling  him- 
self together. 

"  Pray  don't  apologize.  I  always  talk  for  my  own 
pleasure  and  never  for  other  people's ;  and  if  they 
prefer  not  to  listen,  I  am  delighted  for  them  to  enjoy 
themselves  in  their  own  way." 


GUILTY  OR   NOT   GUILTY?  395 

Jack  stayed  on  at  Greystone  because  his  uncle 
seemed  pleased  to  have  him,  and  also  because  there 
was  now  no  particular  reason  why  he  should  be  else- 
where. As  a  rule  people  are  content  to  be  anywhere 
and  to  do  anything,  provided  they  do  not  want  to  be 
anywhere  or  to  do  anything  else.  It  is  only  when  our 
hearts  can  prove  an  alibi  that  we  begin  to  kick  against 
the  pricks. 

There  was  that  sadness  over  the  country  that  al- 
ways comes  in  the  autumn.  Now  and  then  the  year 
seemed  to  make  a  final  struggle  to  recall  the  depart- 
ing summer,  and  there  were  days  as  warm  as  in  July ; 
but  at  other  times  the  shadow  of  the  dreaded  winter 
fell  upon  the  land  and  blotted  out  the  fading  sunshine. 
Summer  had  already  read  upon  her  leafy  walls  the 
fiery  handwriting  which  told  her  that  her  reign  was 
over  and  her  kingdom  about  to  be  given  to  another ; 
and  those  who  had  feasted  with  her  saw  the  sign,  and 
felt  their  hearts  grow  heavy  within  them. 

Jack  and  his  uncle  got  on  better  together  than 
they  had  ever  done  before ;  for  the  former  no  longer 
resented  Sir  Roger's  strictures  on  the  female  sex  now 
that  he  had  himself  proved  it  so  eminently  unsatisfac- 
tory in  its  dealings  with  men,  and  Sir  Roger,  in  his 
cynical  way,  was  sorry  for  his  nephew,  and,  after  his 
own  fashion,  was  kind  to  him.  It  is  easy  to  sympa- 
thize with  people  who  fail  where  we  have  failed — this 
is  ordinary  humanity ;  but  to  rejoice  with  those  who 
succeed  where  we  have  failed  is  a  more  difficult  mat- 
ter— this  is  Christianity. 

The  day  after  Jack's  arrival  at  Greystone  he 
walked  across  the  park  to  the  rectory  to  see  Mr.  Cart- 
wright  ;  and,  as  the  rector  was  not  at  home,  the 
young  man  wandered  into  the  old-fashioned  garden, 
there  to  wait  till  its  master's  return. 


296  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  Good-morning  to  you,  sir,"  said  Clutterbuck, 
who  was  very  busy  doing  nothing,  as  usual ;  "  I  hope 
I  see  you  in  as  good  health  as  is  to  be  expected  at  this 
lugubrious  time  of  the  year.  Eh !  it's  an  unhealthy 
season  is  autumn;  just  the  time  for  famines  and  pes- 
tilences and  all  such  disorders." 

"  I  don't  know  that  autumn  is  worse  than  any 
other  season,"  said  Jack  consolingly. 

"  Then  you  have  never  studied  the  matter,  sir ; 
that's  all  I  can  say.  All  the  year  the  air  is  full  of 
germans  and  microscopes  floating  about ;  but  in  the 
autumn  they  come  down  and  settle  upon  the  folks,  as 
it  were ;  and  then  we  have  all  these  diseases.  The 
only  cure  is  thunder;  that's  the  healthiest  thing  I 
ever  came  across.  And  we  are  wonderfully  favoured 
with  thunder  hereabouts ;  we  get  quite  a  century  of 
storms  in  this  latitude.  Yet  thunder  is  bad  enough 
in  its  way." 

"  Very  bad  indeed,  and  sometimes  dangerous." 

"  That  it  is,  sir,"  agreed  the  gardener,  smacking 
his  lips ;  "  there  are  few  things,  as  you  say,  more  full 
of  danger  than  a  thunderstorm.  My  grandfather,  as 
was,  lost  three  sheep  and  a  wife  through  thunder, 
troubles  never  coming  in  shoals  but  in  battalions,  as 
the  saying  is." 

"  What  a  sad  thing!     How  did  it  happen?  " 

"  Well,  you  see,  sir,  it  was  in  this  way.  The  sheep 
was  struck  dead  on  the  spot  through  standing  under 
a  tree  for  shelter,  and  my  grandmother  drank  beer 
that  the  thunder  had  turned  sour  and  never  was  the 
same  woman  afterwards.  It  brought  on  rheumatics 
in  the  joints ;  at  least  so  I've  heard  tell." 

"  That  was  very  sad  for  your  grandfather,"  said 
Captain  Le  Mesurier  sympathetically. 

"  Well,  the  sheep  was  a  bad  business,  I  admit ; 


GUILTY  OR   NOT   GUILTY? 


297 


but  there  was  two  sides  to  my  grandmother's  rheu- 
matics, so  to  speak.  For  she  couldn't  walk  about 
and  follow  grandfather  all  over  the  place,  as  she'd 
done  afore ;  so  that  when  she  fell  to  nagging  of  him — 
as  is  a  habit  that  all  women  enjoy,  even  the  best  of 
them — there  was  a  way  of  escape  provided,  as  my 
grandfather  piously  remarked." 

"  It  was  a  pity  that  the  excellent  man  was 
afflicted  with  a  nagging  wife.  Surely  he  didn't  de- 
serve it." 

"  Well,  Captain,  that  is  as  may  be  ;  nobody  knows 
a  man's  deserts  save  the  man  himself,  and  he  is  a 
lineament  judge,  as  you  may  say.  But  there's  worse 
things  than  a  woman's  temper,  sir,  begging  your 
pardon :  it  shows  there's  spirit  in  her.  I  don't  mind 
a  regular  tantrum  now  and  then,  provided  there's  a 
good  long  interview  between  them.  But  grandfather 
had  all  sorts,  being  as  he  was  married  four  times ; 
and  each  time  he  chose  the  percise  opposite  to  what 
he'd  just  suffered  from  ;  which  was  but  natural,  seeing 
that  nobody  knows  where  the  shoe  pinches  so  well 
as  him  as  has  just  taken  it  off." 

"  It  would  be  interesting  to  know  what  type  of 
wife  he  finally  recommended.  The  opinion  of  a  man 
of  such  profound  and  wide  experience  would  be  worth 
having." 

"  Eh,  sir,  that's  true;  true; as  fiction,  so  to  speak, 
and  there's  nothing  stranger,  as  they  say.  What  my 
grandfather  said  was  this :  that  a  wife  in  the  house 
was  like  a  fire  in  the  summer — it  made  the  place  too 
hot  for  you,  but  there  was  no  getting  your  dinner 
cooked  without  it." 

"  But  what  sort  did  he  like  best?  "  Jack  persisted. 

Clutterbuck  scratched  his  chin  thoughtfully. 
"  Well,  sir,  as  far  as  I  can  recollect,  he  found  them 

20 


298  A   DOUBLE    THREAD. 

much  of  a  muchness,  as  the  saying  is ;  when  they 
were  there  he  was  allus  a-grumbling  at  'em,  and  when 
they  were  gone  he  was  allus  a-singing  of  their  praises 
to  the  one  that  came  next.  Which  was  no  satisfac- 
tion to  nobody,-as  far  as  I  can  see.  Still  I  have  heard 
him  say  that  a  wife  with  a  tongue  was  bad,  and  a  wife 
with  a  temper  was  worse,  and  a  wife  that's  hard  o' 
hearing  was  worse  still ;  but  there  was  none  on  them 
to  compare  to  a  wife  with  relations.  And .  quite 
right,  too !  For  what  does  a  woman  want  with  re- 
lations when  she  has  got  a  husband,  I  should  like  to 
know  ?  " 

"  They  do  seem  a  superfluity  in  that  case,  I  must 
admit ;  though  it  never  struck  me  in  this  light  before." 

"  Eh,  sir,  you  never  spoke  a  truer  word ;  super- 
numeraries they  are,  and  supernumeraries  they  will 
be,  as  long  as  you  have  'em  hanging  about  the 
place  and  putting  a  lot  of  rebellionism  into  your 
wife's  head.  But  I've  never  been  troubled  with 
botherations  of  that  sort ;  whenever  my  missis 
got  any  nonsense  into  her  head  I  put  my  foot  down 
upon  it  immediately,  and  nipped  the  bud  at  the 
spring,  as  the  saying  is." 

Jack  sighed.  "  I  am  afraid  your  grandfather  was 
right,  Clutterbuck,  and  that  all  women  are  much  of  a 
muchness." 

"  They  are,  sir ;  arftl  what  the  gentry  want  with 
wives  I  can't  tell,  seeing  they  have  servants  to  cook 
for  them  and  they  can  afford  to  send  their  shirts  to 
the  wash." 

"  It  does  seem  funny !  "  Jack  admitted. 

"  Still,  Captain,  they  are  purty  creatures  that  the 
gentry  marry!  I  shall  never  rightly  forget  Sir 
Roger's  sisters — your  aunts,  as  one  might  say :  they 
were  sweet  purty  souls  afore  they  were  married,  when 


GUILTY   OR   NOT   GUILTY? 


299 


they  lived  up  at  the  hall  yonder."  And  Clutterbuck 
pointed  to  Greystone  nestling  among  the  trees. 

"  I  can  call  to  mind  as  if  it  was  yesterday,"  he 
continued,  "  the  time  when  they  were  represented  at 
Court.  They  were  dressed  in  pure  white  from  head 
to  foot,  with  long,  flowing  trains,  and  had  feathers  on 
their  heads  and  bunches  of  white  roses  in  their  hands. 
We  read  the  description  of  their  costumes  in  the 
Weekly  News ;  but,  bless  you,  sir !  it  was  more  like 
reading  the  Book  of  Revelations  than  an  ordinary 
newspaper.  I  read  it  aloud  to  my  missis,  and  we 
both  fairly  cried ;  it  made  us  feel  so  religious-like, 
and  as  if  it  was  Sunday." 

"  I  suppose  my  aunts  were  very  pretty." 

"  I  should  just  think  they  were,  sir;  with  angels' 
faces,  few  and  far  between,  as  the  saying  is.  And 
now.  they  are  dead,  and  your  father  is  dead ;  and  the 
only  one  of  the  family  that's  left  is  the  only  ugly  one 
of  the  four — the  present  Sir  Roger.  Eh,  dear !  it's 
the  same  with  folks  as  with  begonias,  the  handsomest 
ones  die  and  the  ugly  ones  are  spared.  By  which 
token  I  should  doubt  if  you  would  be  a  long-liver 
yourself,  sir,"  added  Clutterbuck  pleasantly,  feeling 
that  he  was  paying  an  elegant  and  graceful  compli- 
ment. 

Jack  received  the  compliment  in  the  spirit  in 
which  it  was  uttered,  and  bowed.  "  I  never  saw  my 
aunts,  but  I  can  remember  what  a  good-looking  man 
my  father  was." 

"  He  was,  sir,  sure  enough ;  but  they  were  none 
on  'em  as  good-looking  as  your  mother.  She  was 
the  very  pink  of  perfection,  as  they  say." 

"  So  I  have  heard,  but  I  cannot  remember  her. 
She  died  when  I  was  a  baby,  you  know." 

"  More's  the  pity,  sir !     She  was  a  sight  to  make 


300 


A   DOUBLE    THREAD. 


an  old  man  young  again ;  though  that  would  be  no 
recommendation  in  your  case,  you  being  so  young 
yourself  at  the  time.  Eh,  she  was  wonderful  hand- 
some, she  was,  and  no  mistake ;  and  so  thought  both 
your  father  and  Sir  Roger  (he  was  Mr.  Le  Mesurier 
at  that  time,  the  late  Sir  Roger  being  still  alive)." 

"  That  I  have  also  heard." 

"  Eh,  Captain,  they  were  both  fairly  doited  over 
her ;  and  no  wonder  with  such  an  evangelical  face  as 
she'd  got.  Sir  Roger  (he  was  Mr.  Le  Mesurier  at 
that  time,  the  old  Sir  Roger  being  still  alive)  had  set 
his  heart  upon  marrying  her,  but  she  wouldn't  look 
at  him  after  once  she'd  set  eyes  on  Mr.  Arthur  (your 
father  as  was).  And  where  was  the  miracle  of  that, 
I  should  like  to  know?  Did  you  ever  hear  tell  of  a 
woman  who'd  put  up  with  a  little  man  when  there 
was  a  big  one  on  the  tapestry?  But  all  the  sarrie  I 
don't  hold  with  a  woman  having  two  strings  to  her 
bow  if  she  can  avoid  it,"  added  Clutterbuck  reprov- 
ingly ;  "  for,  as  the  saying  goes,  if  she  does,  she  is 
bound  to  fall  to  the  ground  between  them." 

"  It  is  difficult  now  to  imagine  that  my  uncle  was 
ever  devoted  to  anybody,"  Jack  remarked. 

"  It  is  difficult  to  imagine  that  roast  duck  was 
ever  a-swimming  on  the  pond,  yet  such  was  the  case. 
And  Sir  Roger  (he  was  Mr.  Le  Mesurier  at  that  time, 
the  old  Sir  Roger  being  still  above  ground)  was  a 
regular  Roman  and  Julia — or  else  pretended  to  be. 
In  fact,  it  was  this  that  turned  him  sour,  I  believe ; 
there  being  nothing  more  upsetting  to  the  emotions 
than  a  disappointment  in  love." 

Jack  smiled  bitterly.  "  It  is  not  improving  to  the 
character,  I  must  confess." 

"  Far  from  it,  sir.  If  you  read  the  stories  of 
Samson  and  Delilah,  and  of  Abbeyland  and  Eloiza, 


GUILTY   OR   NOT    GUILTY? 


301 


you  recognise  what  a  bad  effect  love-affairs  exercise 
over  the  destinations  of  men.  Of  course  it  is  all  writ 
beforehand  in  the  stars,  and  there's  no  gainsaying 
them;  but  I'm  rare  and  thankful  that  it  was  my  fate 
to  get  married,  and  not  to  fall  in  love.  It  saved  a 
world  of  trouble." 

"  You  seem  to  have  been  a  great  reader  of  ro- 
mance, Clutterbuck." 

"  All  my  life,  sir,  reading's  been  my  treat ;  and 
I've  read  everything  that  I  could  lay  my  hands  on, 
from  Shakespeare  to  the  sherry-glasses,  as  the  saying 
is.  Eh !  but  there's  wonderful  things  in  books,  if 
you  can  only  read  between  the  pages;  and  there's 
nothing  more  wonderful  than  what  they  tell  you 
about  love.  There's  nothing  like  it  in  real  life,  I'll  be 
bound ;  and  that's  where  the  cleverness  of  books 
comes  in,  you  see.  Why,  bless  you,  sir!  I've  read 
in  novels  afore  now  of  men  as  couldn't  properly  enjoy 
their  vittles  because  some  young  woman  happened  to 
be  in  a  tantrum  with  them.  Did  ye  ever  hear  the  like 
of  that,  now  ?  "  And  Clutterbuck  obviously  felt  that 
he  was  appealing  in  vain  even  to  a  gentleman's  power 
of  imagination. 

"  I  have  come  across  such  cases  myself,"  replied 
Jack  drily. 

"  Have  ye  now  ?  Well,  I  should  have  said  it  was 
beyond  the  bonds  of  possibility  if  I  hadn't  your  word 
to  the  contrary.  In  course,  if  the  woman's  temper  is 
such  that  she  vents  it  by  overdoing  your  meat  and 
underdoing  your  potatoes,  no  man  can  stomach  either 
her  nor  them.  It  is  not  in  nature  that  he  should. 
But  if  she  keeps  her  ill-humour  to  her  conversation,  I 
can't  for  the  life  of  me  see  where  the  harm  lies.  A 
woman's  tongue  must  allus  be  on  the  work  about 
something  or  other;  and  as  a  man  has  something 


302 


A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 


better  to  do  than  to  waste  his  time  in  listening  to  her 
chitter-chatter,  what  does  it  matter  to  him  whether 
she  is  talking  pleasantly  or  the  reverse  ?  " 

"  Then  don't  you  listen  to  what  Mrs.  Clutterbuck 
says  to  you  ?  " 

The  gardener  looked  at  Jack  in  mild  amazement. 
"  In  course  not,  sir ;  for  what  should  I  ?  For  the  last 
forty  years  her  tongue's  been  on  the  go,  but  what  it's 
all  been  about  I  haven't  the  slightest  idea,  and  I 
doubt  if  she  has.  Why,  bless  you,  sir,  I  don't  know 
what  the  world  would  come  to  if  the  men  began  to 
waste  their  time  in  listening  to  the  rubbish  that 
women-folk  talk.  I  take  it  that  a  woman's  like  a 
mowing-machine ;  she  saves  a  man  a  lot  of  work,  but 
she  can't  help  making  a  noise,  and  the  man's  business 
is  to  avail  himself  of  her  help  and  to  let  the  noise  put 
him  out  as  little  as  possible.  In  fact,  a  woman's 
tongue  is  like  a  waterfall ;  when  you've  lived  near  it 
for  some  time  you  get  so  accustomed  to  it  that  you 
don't  hear  it.  At  least,  that  has  been  my  experience, 
sir;  and  I  take  it  that  the  majority  of  married  men 
will  say  Alleluia  to  that." 

"  Good-morning,"  cried  Mr.  Cartwright's  voice 
across  the  garden;  "  I  am  afraid  that  I've  kept  you 
waiting  a  long  time ;  but  I  had  to  go  and  see  a  sick 
woman  at  the  other  end  of  the  parish." 

"  Oh !  never  mind,"  replied  Jack ;  "  Clutterbuck 
has  been  entertaining  me  in  your  absence,  and  has 
done  it  most  thoroughly." 

"  Clutterbuck  is  excellent  company,  as  I  know  by 
experience,"  said  the  rector,  as  he  shook  hands  with 
Jack ;  "  he  is  a  man  of  learning,  and  a  philosopher  in 
his  way  as  well." 

"  Well,  sir,  I  don't  know  as  I  know  much  about 
that,"  demurred  the  gardener  with  becoming  mod- 


GUILTY   OR   NOT    GUILTY? 


303 


esty ;  "  but  what  I  sees  I  sees,  and  what  I  hears  I 
hears,  and  I  forms  my  own  delusions  accordingly." 

"  That  is  philosophy,"  interpolated  Mr.  Cart- 
wright. 

"  You  see,  sir,  when  you  keep  your  eyes  open,  you 
hear  a  good  deal  more  than  folks  intend  you  to  hear, 
and  you  wonder  what  it  is  all  about.  You  hear  one 
man  crying  for  the  moon,  and  you  know  all  the  while 
that  if  he  got  his  heart's  desire  he'd  soon  find  out 
that  the  moon  is  nothing  but  a  white  elephant  after 
all.  And  you  hear  another  complaining  that  people 
don't  properly  admire  him,  and  you  know  all  the  time 
the  reason  is  that  he  has  kept  his  ten  talons  wrapped 
up  in  a  napkin,  as  Scripture  says,  and  not  made  the 
most  of  his  opportunities.  And  you  hear  another 
man  blaspheming  because  he  can't  have  some  particu- 
lar woman  for  his  wife,  and  you  know  all  the  time 
that  one  wife  is  just  as  good  as  another,  and  that 
none  at  all  is  better  than  either.  Aye,  sir,  there's 
a  many  tear  wasted  in  this  world,  take  my  word 
for  it." 

"  You  are  right  there,  Clutterbtick,"  agreed  the 
rector. 

"  Ah,  sir,  sure  there's  One  above  as  knows  better 
what's  good  for  us  than  we  know  ourselves.  It 
would  never  do  for  the  plants  to  begin  dictating  to 
the  gardener  how  he  should  treat  them.  If  they  did, 
we  should  have  the  potatoes  asking  for  the  watering- 
pot,  and  the  Brussels  sprouts  crying  for  the  pruning- 
knife,  and  the  geraniums  calling  out  for  the  garden- 
roller,  and  everything  would  be  topsy-turvy,  and  the 
whole  place  an  omnibus  gathering,  as  it  were.  And 
it  often  seems  to  me,  Captain,  as  if  we  was  just  plants, 
with  a  Gardener  to  look  after  us  as  knows  His  own 
business  a  sight  better  than  we  do." 


304 


A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 


Jack  nodded.  "  I'm  glad  to  hear  that  you  think 
that ;  it  is  comforting,  somehow." 

"  Kh !  but  you  learn  a  lot  in  the  garden,  sir,  when 
you  give  your  thoughts  to  it.  I  often  think  to  myself, 
when  I'm  clipping  the  rose-trees,  that  the  poor  things 
must  fancy  as  I'm  a  cruel  taskmaster  to  them  and  a 
hard  man ;  but  they  don't  know,  poor  souls !  that 
I'm  doing  it  all  for  their  good,  and  that  if  I  left  them 
to  themselves  and  never  pruned  them,  they'd  soon  de- 
gravitate  into  common  dog-roses  again,  which  are 
first-cousin-once-removed  to  weeds.  Why,  bless 
you,  sir!  the  more  I  set  store  by  a  plant,  the  more  I 
water  it  and  prune  it  and  generally  cultivate  it ;  and 
it  strikes  me  there's  One  above  as  follows  pretty  much 
the  same  plan  with  us." 

"  I  think  He  does,"  said  the  rector  softly. 

"  I  don't  deny,  sir,  that  the  watering  and  the  prun- 
ing are  anything  but  agreeable  at  the  time  to  all 
parties ;  but  you'll  never  get  prize  plants  without 
them,  if  you  try  till  Doomsday  and  the  day  after.  I'd 
take  my  oath  on  that,  if  I  was  black  in  the  face." 

"  I  wonder  if  it  is  always  bad  for  people  to  get 
what  they  want,"  Jack  remarked. 

"  Nine  times  out  of  ten  it  is,  sir ;  and  the  tenth 
time  they've  forgot  in  a  fortnight  that  they  ever 
wanted  the  thing  at  all.  Now  there  was  our  neigh- 
bour's wife,  Mrs.  Higginson,  her  that  lives  in  the 
house  with  the  creeper  all  over  it." 

"  I  know  it,"  said  Jack. 

"  Well,  what  must  she  do  but  set  her  heart  upon 
keeping  a  pig,  though,  as  my  missis  said  to  her  over 
and  over  again,  it  was  against  nature  to  keep  a  pig 
when  there  was  only  two  in  family,  the  wash  not 
being  enough  to  fatten  him ;  and  when  you  have  to 
fill  up  the  wash  with  meal  and  sharps,  a  pig  is  a  poor 


GUILTY   OR   NOT   GUILTY? 


305 


job  at  best.  But  that  was  neither  here  nor  there,  as 
the  saying  is  ;  and  Mrs.  Higginson  got  her  own  way, 
as  folks  allus  do  sooner  or  later,  specially  if  they 
happen  to  be  women." 

"  And  what  was  the  end  of  it  all  ?  " 

"  The  end,  sir?  Why,  the  end  was  that  leanness 
was  sent  into  Mrs.  Higginson's  soul  as  her  pig  fat- 
tened ;  for  so  anxious  was  she  that  the  wash  should 
not  fall  short  and  so  fulfil  my  missis's  explanations, 
that  she  threw  away  good  vittles,  such  as  Higginson 
would  fairly  have  relished,  and  she  set  the  wash-tub 
above  her  own  wedded  husband,  as  you  might  say. 
Which  brought  its  own  punishment;  for  when  the 
pig  was  what  you  might  call  ready  for  killing  it  was 
attacked  by  the  swine  fever,  and  had  to  be  killed  by 
the  public  officer,  and  buried  as  if  it  had  been  an  ordi- 
nary Christian." 

"  That  was  unfortunate  for  all  parties  concerned 
in  the  transaction,"  exclaimed  Captain  Le  Mesurier. 

"  Well,  not  altogether  for  all  parties,"  replied 
Clutterbuck  cautiously ;  "  for  when  Mrs.  Higgin- 
son's pig  died  of  swine  fever,  suspicion  fell  upon  our 
pigs,  as  was  natural,  being  next-door  neighbours; 
and  when  they  were  examined  by  the  officer  and  de- 
clared to  be  healthy,  we  was  presented  with  a  certifi- 
cate to  that  effect,  which  my  missis  was  so  proud  of 
that  she  had  it  framed  and  glazed,  and  it  now  consti- 
tutes one  of  the  prime  ornamentations  of  our  front 
parlour.  So  all  things  turn  out  well  for  them  that 
don't  go  flying  in  the  face  of  Providence,  as  it  were ; 
but  for  them  that  will  get  their  own  wilful  way,  in 
spite  of  everything,  such  as  Mrs.  Higginson  for  in- 
stance, there's  nothing  but  vain-glory  and  vexation 
of  spirit." 


CHAPTER   XIX. 
PHILIP  CARTWRIGHT'S  STORY. 

"  Upon  thy  love  I  made  no  great  demands, 

Nor  daily  needs  before  it  dared  to  bring, 
Because  I  held  it  such  a  holy  thing 
I  feared  to  touch  it  with  unwashen  hands," 

As  Jack  and  Mr.  Cartwright  strolled  back  to  the 
house  the  former  began  the  story  of  Elfrida's  decep- 
tion, and  concluded  it  in  the  rector's  study.  As  Mr. 
Cartwright  had  stood  by  him  when  he  so  firmly  testi- 
fied to  Ethel's  innocence,  he  felt  bound  to  let  the  rec- 
tor know  the  true  state  of  affairs  now,  and  the  reason 
why  the  engagement  was  broken  off. 

Jack  was  still  very  bitter  against  Elfrida.  Had  he 
been  as  astute  a  man  as  his  uncle,  he  would  probably 
have  laughed  at  the  whole  affair,  knowing  that  he  in 
his  turn  could  be  cleverer  than  any  woman  if  he 
wished  so  to  be.  But  Jack  was  intellectually  inferior 
to  Sir  Roger,  and  in  proportion  more  indignant  at 
being  taken  in.  Also,  he  was  an  essentially  truthful 
man,  and  falsehood  of  any  kind  was  abhorrent  to  him. 
Perhaps  deceit  is  of  all  faults  the  most  difficult  to  par- 
don ;  not  so  much  that  it  is  contemptible  in  itself,  as 
that  it  renders  further  trust  so  difficult.  One  may 
forgive  a  ship  for  being  unseaworthy  ;  but  one  is  care- 
ful to  take  one's  passage  in  another  boat. 

The  rector  listened  sympathetically  to  Jack's 
306 


PHILIP   CARTWRIGHT'S   STORY. 


307 


story.  His  heart  was  full  of  pity  for  the  young  man  ; 
yet  not  so  full  but  that  there  was  room  for  pity  for  the 
young  woman  also.  Philip  was  old  enough  to  know 
that  a  man  must  not  always  be  judged  by  his  deeds, 
and,  still  less,  a  woman.  Surely  the  evil  which  we 
would  not  and  yet  do,  is  less  truly  a  part  of  our  real 
selves  than  the  good  that  we  would  and  do  not.  At 
least  so  Philip  Cartwright  believed,  and  so  he 
preached. 

When  Jack  had  finished,  the  rector  tried  to  show 
him  that  there  were  two  sides  to  the  question,  and 
that  there  was  something  to  be  said  on  Miss  Har- 
land's  behalf.  But  the  two  sides  of  any  question  do 
not  count  among  the  visions  vouchsafed  to  the 
young ;  seeing  both  sides  of  a  thing  is  as  sure  a  sign 
of  advancing  age  as  reading  with  spectacles. 

Jack  was  not  in  any  way  malicious  or  revengeful, 
but  he  felt  that  he  could  not  reinstate  Elfrida  on  the 
pedestal  which  she  had  once,  apparently,  so  fittingly 
occupied ;  and  he  was  not  going  to  pretend  that  he 
could  if  he  could  not.  The  love  which  believeth  all 
things  is  one  of  the  glorious  attributes  of  youth ;  but 
the  love  which  endureth  all  things  is  a  later,  and  a 
finer,  growth. 

In  vain  did  Mr.  Cartwright  point  out  to  him  that 
Elfrida's  scepticism  of  disinterested  affection  was 
natural,  considering  her  experience,  and  that  her  de- 
sire to  prove  the  reality  of  his  love  was  pardonable, 
considering  her  sex.  Many  scientific  persons  defend 
vivisection  as  an  abstract  principle ;  but  it  is  doubtful 
if  the  victims  ever  really  enjoy  the  process.  At  any 
rate  Jack  Le  Mesurier  did  not. 

"  But,  my  dear  Jack,"  the  rector  persisted,  "  it  is  a 
mistake  to  deal  with  a  woman  as  one  would  deal  with 
another  man.  Believe  me,  it  is." 


JO8  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  I  cannot  understand  all  these  fine  distinctions," 
replied  Jack  doggedly ;  "  I  make  it  a  rule  that  if  a 
person  has  once  deceived  me  I  never  trust  that  person 
again ;  not  so  much  that  I  will  not  as  that  I  cannot." 

"  But  surely  the  woman  that  one  loves  is  an  ex- 
ception rather  than  a  rule." 

"  Yes ;  but  an  exception  on  the  other  side.  The 
fact  that  one  has  trusted  her  so  entirely  makes  it  all 
the  more  difficult  to  trust  her  again.  The  bigger  a 
thing  is,  the  more  row  it  makes  when  it  is  smashed." 

The  rector  smiled,  and  Jack  went  on :  "  You  see, 
I  believed  in  her  when  all  the  world  seemed  to  be 
against  her,  and  the  facts  too.  Even  though  she  her- 
self had  given  me  a  pink  diamond,  and  I  knew  how 
rare  they  are,  I  would  not  allow  myself  to  suspect  her. 
I  made  myself  believe  that  it  was  either  not  the  Har- 
land  diamond  at  all,  or  else  that  her  sister  had  given 
it  to  her.  In  fact,  I  really  arrived  at  the  conclusion 
that  this  latter  was  the  correct  solution,  and  that  El- 
frida  was  communicating  with  her  sister  without  my 
knowledge,  and  was  trying  to  make  some  amends  to 
Ethel  for  her  poverty." 

"  I  see ;  you  believed  that  Elfrida  gave  Ethel  the 
stone  before  she  went  abroad.  To  tell  you  the  truth, 
so  did  I ;  and  that  was  why  I  so  strongly  urged  you 
not  to  give  Ethel  up.  I  knew  that  Miss  Harland  was 
a  romantic  girl,  and  I  felt  that  to  give  her  hitherto  un- 
lucky sister  the  stone  which  was  supposed  to  bring 
luck  to  its  possessor,  was  exactly  the  kind  of  repara- 
tion which  would  commend  itself  to  a  girl  of  that 

type." 

Jack  nodded.  "  I  know ;  and  I  felt  certain  that 
when  Elfrida  returned,  the  mystery  would  be  cleared 
up.  It  was  the  most  awful  shock  to  me  when  I  heard 
that  she  meant  to  prosecute  her  sister.  Fool  that  I 


PHILIP   CARTWRIGHT'S   STORY. 


309 


was  not  to  see  that  it  was  all  a  bogus  scare  set 
up  to  frighten  a  credulous  ass  like  myself !  "  And  he 
ground  his  teeth  savagely. 

"  You  cannot  blame  yourself  for  being  taken  in ; 
everybody  was." 

"  Yes ;  but  everybody  had  not  known  her  both  as 
Ethel  and  Elfrida,  and  so  I  was  the  most  confounded 
fool  of  all.  I  cannot  imagine  now  how  I  could  have 
been  such  an  idiot ;  but  I  was,  and  that's  an  end 
of  it !  " 

"  My  dear  Le  Mesurier,  I  have  no  doubt  that  she 
acted  the  part  so  well  that  any  man  would  have  been 
taken  in.  But  did  it  ever  strike  you  that  the  two 
girls  were  the  same  ?  " 

"  Never ;  never  once.  She  was  so  utterly  differ- 
ent in  the  two  parts,  don't  you  see?  Of  course  I 
could  see  that  the  two  sisters  were  awfully  alike  in  the 
face ;  but  twin  sisters  often  are ;  and  as  they  ap- 
peared totally  different  in  style  and  dress  and  manners 
and  character,  it  never  occurred  to  me — idiot  that  I 
was ! — that  they  were  one.  You  know  her  mother 
was  an  actress,  so  I  suppose  acting  is  in  the  blood  and 
comes  easy  to  her.  Certainly  she  is  one  of  the  clever- 
est actresses  of  the  day."  And  Jack  laughed  a  laugh 
that  was  not  pleasant  to  hear. 

"  I  think  she  made  a  mistake,  and  did  an  extreme- 
ly foolish  thing,"  said  the  rector  gently ;  "  but,  all  the 
same,  you  are  too  hard  upon  her." 

"  Shouldn't  you  be  hard  upon  a  woman  who  had 
played  with  your  deepest  and  most  sacred  feelings  ? 
Hang  it  all !  she  has  not  only  spoiled  my  belief  in  her, 
but  she  has  spoiled  my  belief  in  everything  else  that 
is  beautiful  and  good.  If  she,  who  seemed  so  perfect, 
was  a  lie,  how  can  I  ever  believe  in  anything  or  any- 
body again?  " 


3IO  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  I  think  you  misjudge  her.  She  did  not  deceive 
you  in  order  to  play  with  you,  but  in  order  to  prove 
your  love  for  her.  I  am  an  older  man  than  you,  Jack, 
and  I  have  seen  terrible  havoc  made  of  many  lives 
simply  because  people  are  so  prone  to  misjudge  one 
another.  If  those  we  love  are  mean  or  base  or  cruel, 
we  had  better  let  them  go,  however  much  it  may 
hurt ;  but  if  we  let  them  go  only  because  we  think 
they  are  mean  or  base  or  cruel,  and  too  late  find 
out  that  they  are  nothing  of  the  kind,  we  have  spoiled 
our  lives,  and  probably  theirs,  for  a  mere  chimera.  If 
our  lives  are  shadowed  by  misfortune,  it  is  God's  do- 
ing, and  He  is  bound  in  some  other  world  to  make  it 
up  to  us  ;  but  if  they  are  marred  by  our  own  mistakes, 
it  is  our  own  doing,  and  I  do  not  see  how  we  can  ex- 
pect Him  to  set  it  right." 

But  Jack  was  obstinate.  "  I  made  no  mistake 
about  Elfrida's  having  deceived  me." 

"  No ;  but  you  are  making  a  fatal  mistake,  both 
about  her  object  in  doing  so  and  your  mode  of  deal- 
ing with  her?  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  think  so." 

The  two  men  smoked  in  silence  for  a  few  minutes, 
and  then  Philip  said :  "  I  have  used  all  my  argu- 
ments, save  one,  in  order  to  convince  you  that  you 
are  wrong,  and  I  have  used  them  in  vain.  So  now  I 
am  going  to  use  my  final  one,  which  is  the  story  of 
my  own  life,  and  the  mistake  which  spoiled  it." 

"  I  shall  be  awfully  interested  to  hear  the  story  of 
your  life ;  but  I  cannot  pretend  that  I  think  it  will  in 
any  way  alter  the  story  of  mine." 

"  Probably  not ;  nevertheless  I  want  you  to  know 
how  a  man  marred  his  life — and,  what  was  far  worse, 
a  woman's — simply  because  he  was  such  a  blind  fool 
that  he  could  not  understand  her." 


PHILIP   CARTWRIGHT'S   STORY.  -jn 

Jack  puffed  silently  at  his  pipe,  and  the  rector  con- 
tinued :  "  I  was  born  at  Tetleigh,  a  village  about  two 
miles  from  Silverhampton,  and  the  sweetest  village  in 
the  whole  world." 

"  I  know  it,"  said  Jack  shortly.  Silverhampton 
was  too  redolent  of  memories  of  Ethel  to  be  a  pleas- 
ing subject  of  conversation  to  him  just  then. 

"  Then  you  know  the  nicest  place  on  this  earth, 
and  the  prettiest.  Well,  if  you  know  Tetleigh,  you 
know  the  Old  Hill  there ;  that  steep  hill  up  which  the 
coaches  had  to  crawl  on  all  fours  before  the  new  road 
was  cut  right  through  the  red  sandstone  some  sixty 
years  ago,  but  which  is  now  too  steep  for  vehicles. 
Do  you  remember  it?  " 

"  As  well  as  I  remember  my  A  B  C." 

"  And  you  know  a  dear  old  house,  half-way  up 
the  hill,  which,  as  the  hymn  says,  hides  a  smiling  face 
behind  a  frowning  Providence ;  for  the  front-door 
has  a  reserved  and  dignified  aspect,  as  all  right- 
minded  front-doors  are  bound  to  have  which  open 
right  on  to  the  street  with  no  garden  to  chaperon  them. 
But  the  back  of  the  house  belies  its  stern  exterior,  and 
is  gay  and  bright  and  sunny,  with  tiers  of  grassy  little 
terraces  commanding  a  fine  view  of  Silverhampton, 
which  verily  is  a  city  set  on  a  hill.  And  the  terraces 
all  come  to  an  untimely  end  in  a  dear  little  wood, 
where  you  will  find  in  the  spring  the  bluest  bluebells 
that  are  to  be  found  in  England.  There  are  none 
bluer  anywhere,  and,  to  my  mind,  none  half  so  sweet. 
That  is  the  house  where  I  was  born." 

"  I  have  passed  by  it  scores  of  times." 

Philip  Cartwright  continued,  speaking  more  to 
himself  than  to  Jack :  "  And  at  the  top  of  the  Old 
Hill  there  is  another  dear  old  house,  but  after  a  dif- 
ferent fashion ;  a  house  which  is  surrounded  by  a 


3I2 


A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 


high  garden- wall,  and  so  never  has  to  be  on  its  dig- 
nity; just  as  women,  who  have  always  been  guarded 
and  sheltered,  are  more  gracious  than  those  who  are 
obliged  to  fight  life's  battles  for  themselves.  This 
old  house  has  a  garden  chock-full  of  sunshine ;  and 
when  you  open  the  green  garden-door  some  of  the 
sunshine  overflows,  and  lies  in  a  big  splash  right 
across  Tetleigh  High  Street.  I  have  often  seen  it 
happen." 

"  So  have  I." 

"  And  there  is  an  old  sun-dial  in  the  midst  of  the 
garden,  to  mark  the  sunny  hours ;  and  all  the  sunny 
hours  of  my  life  have  been  noted  there ;  for  that  old 
house  was  once  the  home  of  Laura  Greenfield,  and 
Laura  Greenfield  is  the  only  woman  in  this  world  or 
the  next  for  me." 

"  Ah  !  "  exclaimed  Jack  :  he  understood  that  feel- 
ing. 

"We  loved  each  other  as  naughty  children,  and 
I  trust  that  we  shall  love  each  other  as  spirits  in 
heaven ;  but  in  the  interval  we  misunderstood  each 
other  as  man  and  woman,  and  that  is  why  my  life  is  a 
failure  and  my  house  is  left  unto  me  desolate.  I  am 
going  to  tell  you  the  story  of  this  mistake,  lest  you 
yourself  make  a  like  one." 

Jack  looked  obstinate,  but  the  rector  continued : 
"  I  loved  her  so  much  that  it  never  occurred  to  me  to 
keep  telling  her  so,  some  facts  seeming,  to  the  obtuse 
masculine  intelligence,  to  be  too  obvious  for  iteration. 
That  is  where  I  went  wrong;  and,  too  late,  I  found 
out  what  a  blind  fool  I  had  been.  But  the  comfort 
of  learning  that  one  has  been  a  fool  is  a  cold  one." 

"  That's  true,  certainly." 

"  I  had  loved  Laura  ever  since  I  was  a  small  boy 
and  she  a  smaller  girl;  and  the  aim  and  object  of 


PHILIP   CARTWRIGHT'S   STORY.  3^ 

my  life  was  to  secure  a  stipend  sufficiently  large  to 
be  shared  by  her.  For  her  I  worked  and  hoped  and 
waited ;  she  was  the  centre  interest  of  my  life — the 
other  half  of  myself — my  greatest  help  in  the  sacred 
work  to  which  I  had  been  called.  I  never  undertook 
any  duty  without  thinking  how  Laura's  sympathy 
upheld  me ;  I  never  heard  any  joke  without  wishing 
that  Laura  were  there  to  laugh  at  it  with  me.  It  was 
my  one  object  to  keep  from  her  everything  that  might 
grieve  or  worry  her,  for  I  could  not  bear  to  think  of 
her  as  anything  but  happy ;  and  so  I  carefully  kept 
my  own  sorrows  out  of  her  sight,  and  for  her  sake 
tried  to  make  light  of  my  many  and  bitter  disappoint- 
ments. Even  now  I  cannot  conscientiously  see  that 
I  ever  failed  in  my  love  for,  and  my  loyalty  to,  her. 
Yet  all  this  availed  me  nothing,  because  I  was  so  fool- 
ish as  to  imagine  that  silent  adoration  is  enough  for 
a  woman,  and  that  her  worshippers  need  no  liturgy." 

"  You  must  have  cared  for  her  a  good  deal,"  said 
Jack. 

The  rector  smiled  sadly.  "  Yes.  I  never  lacked 
the  inward  spiritual  grace,  I  believe ;  but  with  regard 
to  the  outward  visible  signs  I  lamentably  fell  short. 
And  I  have  been  well  punished  for  my  offence :  it  is 
a  life  sentence." 

"  Why,  what  happened  ?  " 

"  Nothing ;  and  it  was  in  that  nothingness  that 
the  tragedy  of  my  life  lay,  and  will  continue  to  lie 
until  Laura  herself  puts  things  straight  again.  For 
years  and  years  I  went  on  working  and  waiting  and 
hoping.  I  was  a  poor  curate  in  those  days ;  but  my 
heart  was  in  my  work,  and  I  only  minded  my  poverty 
because  it  postponed  my  marriage  with  Laura.  Oth- 
erwise I  should  have  been  perfectly  content ;  for  I 
am  thankful  to  say  that  I  am  by  nature  one  of  those 

21 


314 


A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 


people  to  whom  money,  or  the  want  of  it,  neither 
makes  nor  mars  happiness.  Do  you  know,  I  believe 
that  people  are  made  differently  in  this  respect,  and 
that  it  is  actually  harder  to  be  poor  to  some  than  to 
others." 

"  I  think  the  only  difference  is  that  some  people 
are  more  worldly  than  others,  and  so  are  more  keen 
on  money  and  position  and  all  that  rot." 

Mr.  Cartwright  shook  his  head.  "  No,  I  don't 
believe  it  is  worldliness  altogether.  I  think  that  out- 
side things  are  far  more  essential  to  some  natures 
than  to  others,  and  that  religion  or  the  absence  of  it 
has  nothing  to  do  with  the  matter.  For  instance,  I 
have  an  aunt  who  is  a  most  godly  and  excellent  wom- 
an ;  yet  I  do  not  believe  she  thinks  it  possible  for 
anybody  to  be  really  happy  who  doesn't  keep  a  man- 
servant. She  does  not  look  down  on  those  unfortu- 
nate human  beings,  whose  doors  are  ordained  to  be 
opened  by  a  parlour-maid ;  she  is  far  too  much  of  a 
lady  for  that ;  but,  though  she  feels  sure  that  God  in 
His  mercy  will  make  it  up  to  them  in  heaven,  she  sees 
no  possibility  of  their  ever  tasting  happiness  on  earth. 
Yet  she  is  really  a  most  religious  person." 

"  She  must  be  very  amusing,  also." 

"  She  is  unconsciously  extremely  so.  She  is 
deeply  grieved  with  me  that  I  do  not  see  things  in 
this  same  light;  not  angry  with  me,  or  even  re- 
proachful, but  patiently  grieved.  I  remember  once 
saying  to  her  that  I  thought  a  large  establishment 
an  awful  nuisance;  and  that — as  it  is  difficult  for  a 
man  to  serve  even  two  masters  properly — I  was 
thankful  that  I  could  not  afford  to  keep  more  than 
two  servants.  She  mourned  over  me  just  as  if 
I  had  said  that  sickness  was  a  pleasure  or  pain  a 
delight." 


PHILIP   CARTWRIGHT'S   STORY. 


315 


"  Then  was  Miss  Greenfield  afraid  of  poverty  ?  " 
asked  Jack. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  She  agreed  with  me  that  more 
money  than  you  actually  want  becomes  a  burden,  and 
takes  all  the  pleasure  out  of  life.  All  we  desired  was 
sufficient  means  to  enable  us  to  be  always  together. 
It  didn't  seem  much  to  ask,  did  it?  but  it  was  more 
than  we  received;  yet  other  people  get  wealth  and 
houses  and  lands  in  abundant  measure.  I  feel  sure 
that  God  will  explain  everything  to  us  some  day, 
and  make  it  all  plain ;  but  I  cannot  deny  that  a  great 
many  of  us  will  want — and  will  have — an  explana- 
tion." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  which  Jack  did  not 
like  to  break ;  and  then  Philip  Cartwright  added  ab- 
ruptly, in  a  voice  not  like  his  own,  "  She  died,  you 
know,  worn  out  with  waiting;  and  within  a  year  of 
her  death  I  became  rector  of  a  large  London  parish." 

"  It  was  frightfully  rough  on  you,"  Jack  said  sym- 
pathetically. 

"  Yes,  and  on  her  too.  I  think  that  temporal  suc- 
cess which  comes  too  late  is  almost  harder  to  bear 
than  failure ;  but  to  succeed,  ever  so  little,  in  helping 
and  comforting  one's  fellow-creatures  is  the  one  kind 
of  success  that  can  never  come  too  late." 

"  I  suppose  it  is.  But  didn't  Miss  Greenfield  ever 
know  that  you  became  one  of  the  most  popular 
preachers  in  town  ?  " 

The  rector  smiled.  "  Of  course  she  knew ;  I  have 
no  doubt  of  that ;  but  I  cannot  help  wishing  that  she 
was  still  beside  me  to  guide  me  with  her  counsel  and 
to  help  me  with  her  sympathy.  It  seems  to  me  one 
of  the  saddest  things  in  life  that  so  often  when  a  man 
comes  home  rejoicing,  bringing  his  sheaves  with  him, 
those  whom  he  wanted  to  rejoice  with  him  are  no 


316  A  DOUBLE   THREAD. 

longer  there;  and  so  his  harvest-home  becomes  a 
funeral  feast,  and  his  sheaves  a  burden  too  heavy  to 
be  borne." 

"  And  I  suppose,"  said  Jack  thoughtfully,  "  that 
even  if  those  who  are  gone  were  to  hear  of  our  suc- 
cesses and  disappointments,  they  would  think  them 
too  trifling  to  be  noticed ;  and  would  wonder  how 
we  could  make  such  a  fuss  about  such  small  things^" 

"  Oh  !  no,  no ;  I  am  certain  that  they  would  not ; 
I  couldn't  bear  my  life  if  I  thought  that  Laura  is 
so  little  the  Laura  that  I  used  to  know  that  she 
no  longer  is  interested  in  whatever  interests  me. 
Why,  my  dear  Jack,  has  it  never  struck  you  that 
when  One  rose  from  the  dead  and  appeared  to  His 
friends  by  the  lake  side,  He  did  not  talk  theology  to 
them,  nor  tell  them  how  trifling  earthly  matters  now 
appeared  to  Him  ?  His  first  question  was,  '  Chil- 
dren, have  ye  any  meat  ?  ' — the  most  ordinary  ques- 
tion of  daily  life.  I  always  recall  this  when  people 
try  to  convince  me  that  those  beyond  the  veil  no 
longer  take  any  interest  in  the  commonplace  affairs 
which  interest  us ;  and  I  think  what  a  comfort  it  is  to 
know  that  those  who  have  passed  through  the  grave 
and  gate  of  death  are  still  too  human  and  too  natural 
and  too  intimate  with  us  to  be  indifferent  to  any  trifle 
which  concerns  our  welfare,  even  in  the  smallest 
degree." 

"  I  never  thought  of  that  before,"  said  Jack. 

"  I  am  thinking  of  it  always,"  the  rector  added. 
Then  he  went  on :  "  But  that  is  not  the  end  of  my 
story ;  the  part  from  which  I  want  you  to  learn  a  les- 
son is  yet  to  come.  As  I  told  you,  Laura  was  the 
centre  of  my  thoughts  and  the  mainspring  of  my  very 
life ;  but  because  I  was  a  man,  and  had  therefore  but 
slow  perceptions,  having  told  her  once  of  this  I  saw 


PHILIP   CARTWRIGHT'S   STORY. 


317 


no  necessity  for  repeating  the  statement.  I  thought 
she  knew  once  and  for  ever  that  she  was  all  the  world 
to  me,  and  that  that  was  enough." 

"  I  should  have  thought  so,  too?  " 

"  Ah !  my  dear  Jack,  you  do  not  understand 
women,  as  you  have  already  proved." 

"  Perhaps  not,  but  I  cannot  for  the  life  of  me  see 
why  they  should  not  be  content  to  be  treated  as 
rational  beings.  If  you  like  a  man  you  don't  keep 
telling  him  so,  and  why  should  you  if  you  like  a 
woman  ?  " 

Philip  smiled.  "  I  do  not  say  that  women  are  all- 
wise  in  that  they  require  to  be  constantly  assured  of 
a  man's  love ;  I  only  say  that  such  treatment  is  what 
they  do  require.  I  do  not  uphold  that  rare  orchids  are 
all-wise  in  refusing  to  live  in  a  cold  temperature ;  but 
if  you  persist  in  keeping  your  greenhouse  below  fifty 
degrees  you  must  make  up  your  mind  to  do  without 
orchids.  I  am  old  enough  to  have  learnt  that  in  this 
world  you  must  take  things  as  they  are,  and  not 
as  you  think  they  ought  to  be.  But  it  was  by  no 
means  an  easy  or  an  inexpensive  lesson." 

"  It  is  beyond  me  altogether,"  said  Jack. 

The  rector  rose  from  his  chair,  and  unlocked  a 
drawer  in  his  writing-table,  out  of  which  he  took  a 
volume  bound  in  blue  morocco,  evidently  a  diary. 

"  I  have  never  shown  this  to  any  one  before,"  he 
said,  and  his  voice  shook ;  "  but  if  we  find  that  our 
tombstones  may  serve  as  other  people's  finger-posts, 
I  do  not  think  we  have  any  right  to  keep  them  to  our- 
selves. This  little  book  is  the  tombstone  which 
marks  where  all  my  hope  and  love  and  happiness  lie 
buried ;  but  if  it  proves  of  use  to  you  in  pointing  out 
the  way  which  leads  to  misunderstanding  and  misery, 
and  so  helping  you  to  avoid  it,  I  shall  never  regret 


3  [8  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

having  let  you  see  it.  Read  the  passages  which  I 
have  marked,  and  learn  from  them  how  delicate  and 
intricate  a  machine  a  woman's  heart  may  be." 

Jack  took  the  little  volume  reverently  into  his 
own  hands.  "  Thank  you,"  he  said  simply.  "  It 
makes  me  awfully  proud  to  feel  that  you  have  given 
me  such  a  proof  of  confidence  and  friendship.  I 
need  hardly  tell  you  that  whatever  I  learn  here  I 
shall  regard  as  sacred ;  and  even  if  it  does  not  suc- 
ceed in  reconciling  me  to  Elfrida  Harland,  it  will  al- 
ways be  a  bond  between  you  and  me." 

"  I  knew  I  could  trust  you,  Jack,  or  I  should 
never  have  dreamed  of  letting  you  into  the  secret 
places  of  my  life  in  this  way.  Read  only  the  marked 
passages :  the  rest  is  neither  your  business  nor  mine, 
but  only  Laura's." 

"  All  right,  I  understand." 

Jack  opened  the  little  book  at  the  pages  which 
Mr.  Cartwright  had  turned  down.  It  was  a  woman's 
diary,  written  in  a  pretty  hand,  and  there  was  a  faint 
scent  of  lavender  between  the  leaves.  The  marked 
passages  were  at  long  intervals  from  each  other,  and 
had  evidently  been  referred  to  over  and  over  again, 
the  book  opened  so  easily  at  these  places.  They 
were  as  follows : 

"  yd  January. 

"  I  can't  tell  how  it  is,  but  I  don't  think  that 
Philip  is  as  fond  of  me  as  he  used  to  be.  It  is  ages 
since  he  has  said  anything  nice,  and  I  am  sure  if  he 
really  cared  he  would  tell  me  so  sometimes.  I  won- 
der if  it  is  because  he  is  getting  tired  of  me,  or  only 
because  he  is  cold  by  nature?  I  love  him  more 
than  ever,  he  is  so  clever  and  handsome  and 
good ;  but  I  do  wish  sometimes  that  he  were  a  little 


PHILIP   CARTWRIGHT'S   STORY. 


319 


more  human  and  not  so  dreadfully  superior.  I  some- 
times think  I'll  try  and  hurt  him,  just  to  see  if  he  can 
really  feel  anything  much;  but  that  would  be  too 
horrid  just  now  that  he  is  looking  so  tired  and  work- 
ing so  dreadfully  hard.  And  besides  I  love  him  so 
much  that  I  should  simply  die  of  remorse  if  I  suc- 
ceeded in  really  making  him  unhappy,  even  for  a 

minute."  ((      ±.   ,, 

"  20th  May. 

"  The  living  of  Pembruge,  which  we  hoped  that 
Philip  would  get,  has  been  given  to  a  stranger — some 
nasty  old  man  from  Manchester.  I  am  bitterly  dis- 
appointed, for  I  had  made  sure  that  Lord  Silver- 
hampton  would  give  it  to  Philip,  and  he  and  I  would 
have  had  such  lovely  times  together.  But  it  is  my 
fate  never  to  get  what  I  want,  and  my  feet  are  already 
sore  with  kicking  against  the  pricks.  I  suppose  I 
shall  have  to  go  on~  kicking,  however,  till  I  have  one 
foot  in  the  grave ;  and  then  I  shall  go  on  kicking 
with  the  other,  if  I  am  still  separated  from  Philip. 
I  have  cried,  and  cried,  and  cried  over  this  Pem- 
bruge disappointment,  till  my  eyes  are  half,  and 
my  nose  is  twice,  their  ordinary  size.  But  what 
hurts  me  most  is  that  Philip  makes  so  light  of  it. 
He  always  does  make  light  of  his  troubles  when  he 
is  discussing  them  with  me;  and  I  feel  that  that 
shows  he  does  not  really  trust  me.  I  go  to  him 
with  my  heart  simply  bursting  with  sympathy, 
and  with  my  whole  soul  longing  to  comfort  him,  and 
then  he  just  puts  me  off  with  a  bitter  little  joke,  and 
all  my  passion  of  pity  is  wasted.  If  only  he  would  tell 
me  that  he  is  unhappy,  and  would  let  me  comfort  him, 
I  could  bear  our  troubles  a  thousand  times  better ; 
but  instead  of  that  he  persists  in  merely  showing  me 
the  bright  side  of  things,  just  as  if  I  were  a  child  or  a 


320  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

plaything  instead  of  the  woman  who  loves  him.  It 
is  so  stupid  of  him  not  to  see  that  I  would  far  rather 
be  in  the  shadow  with  him  than  in  the  sunshine  all  by 
myself.  And  it  isn't  real  sunshine  after  all ;  it  is 
nasty,  cold,  spurious  sunshine,  like  the  sunshine  that 
is  reflected  from  the  windows  on  the  other  side  of  the 
street." 

"  i8th  March. 

"  It  is  still  the  old,  old  story :  new  hopes  born  only 
to  be  blighted,  and  each  disappointment  bitterer  than 
the  last,  because  as  we  grow  older  we  lose  our  power 
of  getting  over  things  and  beginning  again.  I  have 
had  so  many  disappointments  in  my  life  that  my  mind 
feels  as  if  it  were  covered  with  bruises.  But  it  is 
Philip's  attitude  that  makes  things  so  hard  to  bear ;  I 
feel  as  if  I  almost  hate  him  when  he  puts  his  troubles 
airily  on  one  side,  and  then  tries  to  amuse  me  by  tell- 
ing me  all  about  what  he  has  done  and  seen  in  Lon- 
don. Why  can't  he  understand  that  I  don't  want  to 
be  amused  and  petted  and  played  with,  but  to  be 
allowed  to  help  him  to  carry  his  burdens  and  to  bear 
his  griefs  ?  He  came  down  to  Tetleigh  last  week  for 
a  couple  of  days,  and  I  had  so  looked  forward  to  see- 
ing him  again,  and  showing  him  how  absolutely  I 
was  one  with  him  in  everything  that  concerned  him. 
But  his  visit  was  a  disappointment,  like  everything 
else.  He  met  me  with  a  smile  and  a  jest,  and  then 
treated  me  to  a  brilliant  and  amusing  description  of 
an  entertainment  which  Lady  Silverhampton  had 
given  down  in  the  East  End.  As  if  I  wanted  to  be 
entertained — and  by  him !  Consequently  I  have 
cried  myself  to  sleep  every  night  since,  and  Philip  has 
gone  back  to  town,  congratulating  himself  on  his 
success  in  keeping  me  cheerful." 


PHILIP   CARTWRIGHT'S   STORY.  321 

"  2gth  November. 

"  I  have  got  a  dreadful  cold  which  will  not  get 
better.  I  don't  think  I  should  mind  much  if  it  never 
did,  for  my  heart  is  broken  by  Philip's  coldness ;  and 
the  sooner  my  life  is  over  the  better  I  shall  be  pleased. 
If  only  he  had  loved  and  trusted  me  as  I  love  and 
trust  him,  how  different  everything  would  have 
been !  After  all,  nothing  can  really  separate  us  from 
each  other  but  ourselves ;  and  it  is  Philip's  indiffer- 
ence, and  not  his  poverty,  that  has  come  between  him 
and  me." 

"  I5/A  March. 

"  We  are  having  the  regular  Silverhampton  spring 
weather  that  I  used  to  love — bright  sun,  sharp  east 
wind,  and  the  roads  looking  like  white  stripes  across 
the  country.  But  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  shrink 
from  the  Silverhampton  east  wind ;  it  seems  to  blow 
through  me  as  if  I  were  made  of  paper.  Philip  and  I 
are  drifting  further  and  further  apart.  He  writes  to 
me  just  as  often  as  ever,  but  his  letters  are  horrid  dull 
ones,  all  about  what  he  is  doing  instead  of  what  he  is 
feeling.  What  woman  wants  a  Court  Circular  from 
the  man  she  loves?  But  it  is  the  old  trouble — Philip 
has  never  thought  me  worthy  to  be  admitted  into  the 
holiest  places  of  his  life.  He  has  only  let  me  come 
into  the  outer  court  and  the  banqueting-hall ;  those, 
he  thinks,  are  good  enough  for  me,  and  are  all  that 
I  am  capable  of  understanding.  If  he  had  seen  fit 
to  open  to  me  the  doors  of  his  heart's  sanctuary  and 
his  hopes'  dungeon,  he  would  have  found  me  not  un- 
worthy of  his  confidence ;  I  could  have  prayed  and 
mourned  with  him  as  well  as  I  have  feasted  and 
danced  with  him.  But  he  has  deliberately  shut  me 
out  of  his  inner  life,  and  I  am  powerless  against  his 
pitiless  reserve." 


322  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  ist  November. 

"  The  end  is  very  near  now.  The  summer  has 
not  done  me  the  good  that  they  hoped,  and  I  cannot 
pull  through  another  winter.  But  I  don't  feel  sorry ; 
when  one  has  had  over  ten  years  of  loneliness  and 
heartache,  one  has  had  about  enough.  I  could  have 
borne  it  all,  and  gladly,  if  only  Philip  had  cared  more 
for  me,  and  had  not  so  persistently  shut  the  doors  of 
his  spirit  in  my  face.  But  that  doesn't  matter  now — 
nothing  matters  any  more.  My  life  has  been  an  utter 
failure.  I  have  given  all  my  love  and  thoughts  and 
the  best  part  of  myself  to  a  man  who  has  never  re- 
garded me  as  anything  but  a  pleasant  plaything  and 
an  agreeable  pastime.  But  even  now  I  wouldn't  take 
them  back  if  I  could.  I  would  rather  be  a  slave  to 
Philip  than  a  queen  to  any  one  else ;  and  though  I 
have  worshipped  an  unresponsive  idol,  I  have  never 
known  the  shame  of  worshipping  an  unworthy  one. 
So  perhaps  my  life  has  not  been  such  an  utter  failure 
as  it  might  have  been  after  all." 

That  was  the  last  entry  in  the  little  blue  diary. 
Jack  closed  the  book  tenderly  and  handed  it  back 
to  the  rector  in  silence.  His  eyes  were  dim  with 
tears,  but  Philip's  were  dark  with  a  dumb  despair. 

When  the  book  had  been  restored  to  its  hiding- 
place  and  the  drawer  locked  up,  Philip  said :  "  I 
never  saw  her  again  after  that.  The  end  came  sud- 
denly at  last,  early  in  December.  After  she  was  dead, 
they  gave  me,  among  other  things,  her  diary;  and 
then  I  found  out,  too  late,  what  a  blind  fool  I  had 
been.  I  did  so  want  her  to  have  a  good  time,  poor 
child !  and  so  I  tried  to  keep  from  her  anything  that 
might  hurt  her.  But  I  made  a  mistake  as  you  see, 
and  a  mistake  which  in  this  life  I  can  never  rectify." 


PHILIP   CARTWRIGHT'S   STORY. 


323 


There  was  a  lump  in  Jack's  throat.  "  Did  she 
never  know  how  you  loved  her  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Not  here ;  but  probably  the  angels  have  told 
her  by  now;  and,  if  not,  I  mean  to  tell  her  myself 
some  day,  when  we  shall  no  longer  see  each  other 
through  a  glass  darkly,  but  face  to  face." 


CHAPTER   XX. 

ELFRIDA   AT   GREYSTONE. 

"  New  friends  will  meet  me  and  will  greet  me  kindly ; 

But  shall  I  learn  to  love  them  half  as  well 
As  thee,  whom  I  have  loved  so  long  and  blindly? 
I  cannot  tell,  sweetheart,  I  cannot  tell." 

IN  spite  of  Sir  Roger's  arguments  and  Mr.  Cart- 
wright's  experience,  Jack  Le  Mesurier  remained  ob- 
durate with  regard  to  Elfrida.  The  wound  she  had 
inflicted  on  him  was  too  recent  for  the  healing  pro- 
cess to  have  begun ;  and  till  it  did  begin,  forgiveness 
seemed  impossible.  Jack  had  trusted  her  blindly  in 
the  first  instance — far  more  blindly  than  the  majority 
of  men  would  have  done  in  similar  circumstances ; 
and  the  very  completeness  of  his  confidence  in  her 
made  it  all  the  more  difficult  for  him  to  pardon  the 
deliberate  betrayal  of  this  trust.  He  would  have 
found  it  even  easier  to  forgive  her  had  she  deceived 
him  in  order  to  gain  some  great  end ;  but  to  feel  that 
he  had  been  befooled  merely  as  a  sort  of  joke,  with 
no  object  but  the  satisfaction  of  a  spoilt  girl's  whim, 
was  more  than  he  could  patiently  endure. 

Elfrida  wrote  to  him  at  some  length,  explaining 
that  her  sole  object  had  been  to  prove 'the  disinter- 
estedness of  his  affection,  and  humbly  beseeching  his 
forgiveness.  She  told  him  how  weary  she  was  of  the 
324 


ELFRIDA   AT    GREYSTONE. 


325 


adulation  of  fortune-hunters,  and  how  difficult  it  was 
for  her  to  believe  that  any  one  really  loved  her  for 
her  own  sake ;  and  as  her  love  for  him  had  been  the 
reason  for  her  offence,  she  trusted  it  might  also  prove 
the  claim  to  his  forgiveness. 

Jack  replied,  by  no  means  at  great  length,  that  he 
had  trusted  her  with  all  his  heart ;  that  she  had  delib- 
erately and  flippantly  betrayed  that  trust  just  for  her 
own  amusement ;  and  that  this,  as  far  as  he  was  con- 
cerned, was  the  end  of  the  matter.  There  is  no  doubt 
that  he  was  very  hard  and  very  obstinate ;  but  there 
is  also  no  doubt  that  if  one  takes  a  watch  to  pieces  to 
see  how  the  works  are  made,  calling  the  watch  hard 
and  obstinate  will  not  make  it  go  again.  Elfrida  had 
had  her  fling,  and  now  the  bill  for  it  had  come  in ; 
and  Fate  is  not  one  of  those  accommodating  trades- 
people who  reduce  their  accounts  when  we  grumble 
at  the  size  of  them :  possibly  because  she  does  not 
overcharge  in  the  first  instance. 

Jack  not  only  refused  to  be  friends  with  Elfrida, 
but  he  would  not  even  see  her  again.  When  she 
wrote  begging  him  to  call  at  her  house  in  Mayfair,  he 
replied  shortly  that  his  decision  was  unalterable,  and 
that  a  meeting  would  be  painful  to  both  of  them 
under  the  circumstances ;  and  that  therefore  he  was 
compelled,  much  to  his  regret,  to  decline  her  most 
kind  invitation. 

After  that  she  naturally  could  not  press  the  mat- 
ter further. 

Elfrida  fretted  sadly  over  the  results  of  her  own 
folly.  She  had  actually  attained  her  heart's  desire — 
she  had  found  the  blue  rose,  the  magic  ring,  of  her 
dreams — and,  having  found  it,  she  had  of  her  own 
free  will  thrown  it  away.  She  had  no  one  but  herself 
to  thank  for  her  misery ;  but  such  self-earned  grati- 


326  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

tude  is  no  alleviation  of  human  woe,  but  rather  an 
aggravation  of  the  same. 

Sir  Roger  came  up  to  London  on  purpose  to  see 
Miss  Harland  and  talk  over  the  matter  with  her,  as 
far  as  so  delicate -a  matter  could  be  talked  over;  and 
though  he  did  not  succeed  in  reconciling  her  and 
Jack,  he  formed  a  very  real  friendship  with  her  on  his 
own  account — a  not  unusual  perquisite  of  the  peace- 
maker. Sir  Roger  and  Elfrida  had  much  in  com- 
mon ;  they  were  neither  of  them  prone  to  think  too 
well  of  their  fellow-creatures,  and  they  had  both  out- 
lived (or  thought  they  had)  the  majority  of  their  illu- 
sions ;  and,  greatest  bond  of  all,  they  both  cared  for 
Jack  more  than  for  any  one  else  on  earth.  Neverthe- 
less, they  could  not  make  Jack  do  what  they  wanted ; 
and  that  self-willed  young  man  returned  to  India  at 
the  end  of  his  leave,  without  even  having  seen  Elfrida, 
much  less  forgiven  her.  Captain  Le  Mesurier  had  a 
will  and  a  temper  of  his  own. 

Poor  Elfrida  shed  many  tears  in  secret  over  the 
barrier  which  Jack  had  erected  between  herself  and 
him ;  but  her  tears  did  not  serve  to  wash  it  away. 
She  derived  much  comfort,  however,  from  her  friend- 
ship with  Sir  Roger,  who  was  crowned  in  her  eyes 
with  the  halo  that  is  always  worn  by  the  relations  of 
the  beloved  one — before  marriage. 

Soon  after  Jack  rejoined  his  regiment,  the  Dower 
House  at  Greystone,  which  had  been  let  for  the  last 
ten  years,  fell  vacant;  and  Elfrida  Harland  imme- 
diately took  it  as  her  country  residence,  simply  and 
solely  because  if  she  lived  near  Sir  Roger  she  knew 
she  would  constantly  be  hearing  news  of  Jack; 
which,  after  all,  was  no  more  foolish  than  taking  a 
place  for  the  sake  of  the  hunting  or  the  shooting  or 
the  fishing.  It  is  never  foolish  to  do  a  thing  because 


ELFRIDA   AT   GREYSTONE. 


327 


we  want  to  do  it ;  the  folly  lies  in  doing  a  thing  be- 
cause other  people  think  we  ought  to  want  to  do  it 
and  we  do  not.  "  Because  I  like  it "  is  the  strongest 
reason  in  the  world  bar  one ;  "  because  I  ought  to 
like  it "  is  the  feeblest ;  which  is  quite  a  different 
thing  from  "  because  I  ought  to  do  it,"  which  is  the 
strongest  reason  of  all.  Yet  people  frequently  con- 
found these  two  last,  and  confuse  their  own  duty  with 
another  person's  pleasure.  This  also  is  folly. 

Sir  Roger  and  his  new  tenant  put  their  heads  to- 
gether to  make  the  Dower  House  as  pretty  as  pos- 
sible. Elfrida  spared  no  pains  or  money  in  making 
the  house  attractive,  because  she  felt  sure  that  Jack 
would  see  it  some  day.  Most  of  us  in  this  world  are 
playing  to  an  audience  of  one ;  and  that  one's  ap- 
plause is  the  end  and  aim  of  the  work  we  do  and  the 
things  we  say  and  the  clothes  we  wear.  When  we 
cease  to  play  to  an  audience  of  one,  we  either  begin 
playing  to  the  gallery  as  a  whole,  which  is  cheap ;  or 
we  leave  off  playing  altogether,  which  is  old  age  and 
the  end  of  all  things.  There  is  still  a  third  possibility ; 
namely  to  play  to  another  one,  which  is  really  the 
only  sensible  thing  to  do.  But  Miss  Harland's  eyes 
had  not  as  yet  been  opened  to  this  third  resource. 

As  Jack  was  no  longer  there,  Elfrida  found  Lon- 
don intolerably  empty — so  empty,  in  fact,  that  no  one 
but  a  hermit  could  choose  it  as  a  place  of  residence ; 
so  she  left  it  early  in  the  year,  and  took  up  her  abode 
at  Greystone  Dower  House  with  Arabella  Seeley.  In 
spite  of  her  sorrow  about  Jack,  that  summer  was  not 
altogether  an  unhappy  one  to  Elfrida  Harland.  She 
saw  a  great  deal  of  Sir  Roger  Le  Mesurier  and  of 
Philip  Cartwright,  two  most  interesting  men  in  their 
way.  Though  they  were  neither  the  rose,  they  had 
both  been  near  it ;  and  though  she  would  rather  have 


328  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

had  Jack,  they  were  better  than  nothing.  The  word 
instead  has  no  place  in  the  vocabulary  of  some  un- 
fortunate persons;  but  Elfrida  belonged  to  the  hap- 
pier half  of  mankind  who  do  not  exclude  the  expres- 
sion from  their  daily  walk  and  conversation.  For 
the  which  she  ought  to  have  returned  thanks. 

Moreover,  Sir  Roger  and  Mr.  Cartwright  were 
both  clever,  and  Jack  was  not ;  therefore  they  suited 
Elfrida  intellectually  better  than  he  had  done;  and 
though  her  heart  was  starved  in  Jack's  absence,  her 
mind  throve  apace.  To  some  women  the  fact  that 
they  have  fallen  in  love  with  one  man  makes  it  im- 
possible for  them  to  fall  in  love  with  any  other;  to 
another  type  of  woman  the  falling  in  love  with  the 
one  awakens  a  side  of  their  nature  hitherto  dormant, 
and  so  makes  them  all  the  more  likely  to  fall  in  love 
again.  Just  as  with  some  people  a  cold  in  the  head 
ensures  them  from  catching  another  for  some  time ; 
whilst  with  others,  each  cold  makes  them  more  sus- 
ceptible to  the  next.  All  of  which  is  doubtless  a  mat- 
ter of  constitution  and  temperament,  which  doctors 
and  lovers  should  carefully  take  into  consideration,  or 
else  the  former  unfortunately  will  fail  in  curing  their 
patients,  and  the  latter  (equally  unfortunately)  will 
succeed. 

"  Come  and  see  my  garden,"  said  Mr.  Cartwright 
one  sunny  morning,  when  he  had  come  across  Elfrida 
in  the  village ;  "  I  want  your  opinion  on  some  new 
roses  that  have  filled  Clutterbuck's  soul  with  delight. 
I  call  them  ugly  mongrels ;  but  he  considers  them 
the  acme  of  scientific  achievement.  I  need  hardly 
add  that  he  budded  them  himself." 

"  I  suppose  '  a  poor  thing  but  my  own '  is  Clut- 
terbuck's motto,"  suggested  Elfrida. 

"  Not  it !     Clutterbuck  is  wiser  in  his  day  and 


ELFRIDA  AT   GREYSTONE. 


329 


generation  than  Shakespeare  was.  Clutterbuck's 
motto  is  '  not  a  poor  thing  because  mine  own  ' — a 
most  comfortable  doctrine.  People  who  consider  all 
their  own  things  perfection  are  very  happy,  don't  you 
think?" 

"  Yes ;  I  admire  them  profoundly,  they  are  so 
wise.  Sages  such  as  these  rejoice  when  the  shoe 
pinches,  because  they  say  that  shoes  which  are  too 
big  are  far  more  uncomfortable  than  shoes  which  are 
too  small.  I  always  think  that  the  fox  who  lost  his 
tail  in  a  trap,  and  found  it  so  much  more  comfortable 
without  it,  must  have  been  a  delightful  person  to 
live  with,  though  perhaps  annoying  to  a  casual  ac- 
quaintance. But  in  daily  life  give  me  self-satisfied 
people  rather  than  grumbling  ones !  " 

Mr.  Cartwright  acquiesced  and  Elfrida  con- 
tinued :  "  Self-satisfied  people  are  always  conceited, 
and  I  love  conceited  people,  they  are  so  pleasant  and 
easy  and  good-tempered.  Conceit  seems  to  me  a 
most  delightful  and  comfortable  thing,  like  a  fire  in 
one's  bedroom  in  the  winter.  I  hate  people  who 
think  badly  of  themselves ;  they  are  so  touchy  and 
suspicious,  and  are  always  expecting  you  to  cut  them 
or  something." 

Philip  smiled.  "  Here  we  are  at  the  rectory 
gates,  and  I  can  see  Clutterbuck,  like  Love,  among 
the  roses.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  do  not  care  for 
fancy  flowers ;  I  prefer  them  as  Nature  made  them ; 
but  you  must  never  tell  Clutterbuck  this.  It  would 
cause  him  to  despise  me  if  he  knew  that  I  had  no 
yearnings  after  blue  narcissi  and  orange  roses." 

"  I  agree  with  you  and  not  with  Clutterbuck. 
But  this  scientific  gardening  is  carried  on  now  to 
such  an  extent  that  we  shall  soon  have  check  gera- 
niums and  tartan  carnations." 


330 


A  DOUBLE   THREAD. 


As  the  rector  held  the  gate  open  for  Miss  Har- 
land  to  pass  through  it,  the  two  looked  into  each  oth- 
er's eyes  and  smiled ;  and  this  smile  acted  as  a  tem- 
porary anaesthetic  to  the  pain  in  Elfrida's  heart, 
which  had  never  ceased  aching  since  Jack's  quarrel 
with  her.  It  is  wonderful  what  healing  power  lies 
in  the  smiles  of  some  people ;  and  they  frequently 
happen  to  be  people  of  a  similar  age  and  an  oppo- 
site sex. 

"  I  have  brought  Miss  Harland  to  see  your  fa- 
mous roses,  Clutterbuck,"  said  Mr.  Cartwright. 
"  She  thinks  it  very  clever  of  you  to  have  invented  a 
new  sort." 

Clutterbuck  waved  his  spade  in  a  deprecating 
manner.  "  It's  all  in  the  day's  work,  miss,  to  be 
sure,  and  no  thanks  to  me;  yet  invention  is  better 
than  cure,  as  they  say." 

"And  if  you  have  invented  a  new  rose  it  is  but 
fair  for  you  to  have  the  credit  of  it,"  Elfrida  re- 
marked. 

"  Well,  miss,  we  must  all  stand  on  our  own 
laurels,  as  it  were,  and  no  man  can  hinder  us  from 
the  defects  of  our  own  actions ;  and  the  wiser  the  ac- 
tions the  greater  the  defects;  for  nothing  exceeds 
like  excess,  as  the  saying  goes,  either  in  roses  or  ser- 
mons, as  the  rector  himself  can  tell  you,"  replied 
Clutterbuck,  kindly  including  his  master  in  the  con- 
versation. 

"  No  one  knows  how  to  preach  successful  ser- 
mons better  than  he  does,"  agreed  Elfrida. 

"  You  never  spoke  a  truer  word,  miss,  and  you 
couldn't  even  if  you  was  to  kiss  the  Bible  on  it.  Ay, 
he's  a  wonderful  preacher,  our  rector  is ! "  And 
Clutterbuck  looked  at  his  spiritual  pastor  with  pride 
and  proprietorship.  "  When  he  preaches,  it's  like 


ELFRIDA   AT   GREYSTONE. 


331 


pouring  water  through  a  silver  trumpet,  that  it  is.  I 
never  heard  the  likes  of  it  before,  never,  either  for 
noise  or  teaching.  Maybe  you've  heard  his  sermon 
on  the  dry  bones,  miss." 

Elfrida  shook  her  head.  "  I'm  sorry  to  say  that 
I  haven't." 

"  Then  your  misfortune  is  greater  than  your  fault, 
as  they  say,  for  a  sweeter  little  sermon  never  was 
heard.  As  I  say  to  my  missis,  '  Give  me  our  rector 
on  the  dry  bones,  and  I'll  bear  the  palmistry  before 
any  other  church  or  chapel ! '  Now  there's  our  neigh- 
bour Higginson ;  he's  an  Independent,  as  you  might 
say,  and  he  sets  great  store  by  the  Independent  min- 
ister at  Sugden,  as  is  but  natural ;  and  he  says  there's 
nothing  like  their  minister  when  he  gets  on  to  Jacob's 
ladder — it's  something  wonderful.  But  I  say  our 
rector  can  get  more  milk  for  babes  out  of  them  dry 
bones  than  is  to  be  found  in  the  whole  of  Sugden 
chapel ;  and  what  I  says  I  sticks  to,  and  always 
shall." 

The  rector  laughed.  "  Miss  Harland  has  just 
been  propounding  to  me  the  beauty  of  conceit,  and 
you  are  evidently  bent  on  making  me  the  illustration 
of  her  argument." 

The  gardener  looked  thoughtful.  "Well,  there 
are  worse  things  than  conceit,  I  daresay,  provided  we 
don't  get  hold  of  the  wrong  things  to  be  conceited 
about.  But  what  I've  no  patience  with  are  the  folks 
that  feel  so  much  handsomer  than  they  look,  and  give 
themselves  airs  accordingly." 

"  They  are  certainly  aggravating,"  said  the  rec- 
tor, catching  Elfrida's  eye. 

"  We  are  all  as  Providence  made  us,  sir ;  and  I 
make  no  doubt  that  if  we'd  the  chance  we'd  a  many 
of  us  send  back  our  faces  to  be  altered.  But  if  we're 


332 


A   DOUBLE    THREAD. 


born  under  the  influence  of  Venus  we're  handsome, 
and  if  we're  born  under  the  influence  of  Saturn  we're 
ugly,  and  what's  the  good  of  argufying  against  the 
planets  ?  " 

"  You  are  very  philosophical,"  remarked  Elfrida. 

"  Well,  miss,  what  I  says  is  this :  if  we'd  have  had 
the  making  of  ourselves  we  should  all  have  been 
handsome ;  and  if  we'd  had  the  making  of  one  an- 
other we  should  all  have  been  ugly ;  but  Providence 
saw  fit  to  arrange  matters  otherwise,  and  here  we  are, 
and  it  is  all  for  the  best.  Though  what  induced 
Providence  to  give  such  a  fine  upstanding  figure  of 
a  man  to  such  a  poor  fool  as  my  neighbour  Higgin- 
son  is  what  beats  me." 

"  Is  Higginson  one  of  the  conceited  people  ?  " 
Elfrida  asked. 

"  Above  a  bit,  miss,  above  a  bit !  "  cried  Clutter- 
buck  with  relish.  "  You've  got  hold  of  the  right 
end  of  the  nail  this  time,  and  no  mistake.  Conceit 
isn't  the  word  for  it.  His  head  is  fairly  turned  with 
looking  at  himself.  But  the  trying  part  of  the  mat- 
ter is  that  he  is  not  so  much  proud  of  his  good  looks, 
which  are  plain  for  all  the  world  to  see,  but  of  his 
knowledgeableness,  of  which  he  has  less  than  a  new- 
born babe,  save  such  babies  as  are  born  idiots." 

Elfrida  nodded.  "  People  are  often  more  con- 
ceited about  what  they  haven't  got  than  about  what 
they  have." 

"  You  never  saw  such  fools  as  them  Higginsons, 
never;  and  yet  they  think  they  know  more  than  the 
world  and  his  wife  put  together.  Only  the  other 
day  Farmer  Larkinson  came  up  to  consult  me  about 
one  of  his  cows  that  had  fallen  sick,  and  he  couldn't 
quite  diagram  its  symptoms ;  and  of  course  Higgin- 
son must  join  in  our  conversation,  and  put  his  oar  in 


ELFRIDA   AT   GREYSTONE. 


333 


our  pie,  as  the  saying  is.  Now  my  missis — having 
lived  in  an  Archdeacon's  family  before  her  marriage 
— naturally  knows  all  about  cows ;  but  Higginson 
must  come  and  talk  her  down  before  she'd  got  a 
word  in,  and  must  give  his  opinion  instead,  which 
was  not  worth  the  breath  that  uttered  it,  let  alone  the 
time  of  them  that  had  to  listen  to  it.  Oh !  it  is  a  sad 
and  propiteous  sight  to  see  folks  so  eaten  up  by  con- 
ceit that  they  can't  see  for  themselves  that  their 
neighbours  know  a  sight  better  than  they  do." 

"  The  only  question  being  which  are  the  people 
and  which  are  the  neighbours,"  added  Mr.  Cart- 
wright. 

"  I  may  have  my  faults,"  continued  Clutterbuck, 
as  if  there  was  room  for  considerable  doubt  on  the 
subject,  but  he  was  making  a  generous  concession  to 
possibilities ;  "  but  I  am  grateful  to  Providence  that 
conceit  was  never  one  of  my  besettlements.  I  know 
I  never  was  much  to  look  at,  but  that  is  no  trial-by- 
jury  to  my  patience,  for  I  hold  that  a  handsome  man 
is  first-cousin-once-removed  to  a  barber's  block. 
Beauty's  for  the  women,  in  my  opinion — and  they're 
a  sight  better  without  it,  if  you  expect  them  to  stop 
at  home  and  overlook  their  own  houses,  instead  of 
running  all  over  the  parish  like  a  flock  of  feather- 
headed  butterflies.  But  there's  no  one  in  the  county 
that  knows  as  much  about  roses  as  I  do,  and  so 
it  isn't  in  nature  that  I'll  stand  being  taught  garden- 
ing by  my  neighbour  Higginson,  who  knows  as 
much  about  a  garden  as  an  egg  knows  of  meat,  and 
that  is  neck  or  nothing,  as  the  saying  is." 

"  Higginson  seems  a  trial  of  the  flesh  to  you,"  the 
rector  said  soothingly. 

Clutterbuck  sighed.  "  He'd  be  a  trial  to  you,  sir, 
I  make  bold  to  say,  if  you  were  so  unfortunate  as  to 


334  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

live  next  door  to  him.  You  never  saw  his  equality 
for  ignorance.  He  and  his  wife  must  come  a-preach- 
ing  and  a-teaching  to  me  and  Farmer  Larkinson  all 
about  cows,  of  which  they  know  absolutely  noth- 
ing, no  shame  to  them,  but  such  being  the  case ;  and 
then  when  me  and  my  missis,  in  the  loving-kindness 
of  our  hearts,  as  you  might  say,  take  the  trouble  to 
give  them  a  bit  of  friendly  counsel  about  their  pig, 
they  ups  in  our  faces  and  shuts  our  mouths  with  a 
deaf  ear.  Now,  what  can  you  do  with  such  igno- 
ramouses  as  that,  I  should  like  to  know  ?  " 

Mr.  Cartwright  looked  grave,  though  his  eye 
twinkled.  "  You  can  do  nothing,  I  should  say, 
but  let  them  severely  alone ;  though  that  seems 
rather  like  cutting  off  one's  nose  to  spite  one's  face, 
after  all." 

"  Do  you  let  people  severely  alone  when  they  of- 
fend you?"  Elfrida  asked. 

"  Yes ;  but  it  is  not  a  satisfactory  mode  of  pro- 
cedure as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  though  I  fancy  my 
enemies  rather  enjoy  it  and  feel  that  I  am  indeed  re- 
turning good  for  evil.  As  a  rule,  when  I  am  offended 
with  people,  and  endeavour  to  show  it,  they  either 
don't  perceive  it  at  all,  or  else  they  think  I  am  not 
well,  and  send  me  grapes  and  flowers  as  to  an  in- 
valid." 

"  That  must  be  very  horrid !  " 

"  It  is,  extremely  so.  I  shall  never  forget  once 
being  mortally  offended  with  old  Lady  Silverhamp- 
ton  and  showing  it  so  well  that  she  actually  handed 
me  her  smelling-bottle  right  across  a  drawing-room. 
She  said  she  was  sure  I  felt  faint,  I  was  so  unlike  my- 
self. I  wasn't  in  the  least  faint;  I  was  simply  furi- 
ous with  the  old  woman  herself,  and  trying  to  inter- 
pret my  righteous  indignation  by  means  of  a  stately 


ELFRIDA   AT   GREYSTONE.  335 

and  dignified  exterior.  But  that  smelling-bottle 
spoilt  everything,  and  even  put  me  under  a  sort  of 
obligation  to  my  enemy,  which  crushed  my  spirit  in 
the  dust." 

"  All  the  same,  I  know  you  laughed." 

"  Of  course  I  did ;  I  simply  roared.  It  seems  to 
me  that  one  can  always  laugli  at  things,  unless  one 
cries  at  them,  and  very  often  one  can  do  both.  But 
come  and  sit  down  under  my  cedar-tree  where  the 
lead-pencils  grow.  You  look  tired ;  or  is  it  that  you 
are  offended,  and  I  am  misjudging  you,  as  I  have  so 
often  been  misjudged  ?  " 

Elfrida  smiled.  "  No,  I'm  not  offended,  and  I'm 
not  tired,  only  it  is  such  a  hot  day  that  it  will  be  nice 
to  sit  down  and  rest  for  a  bit  and  talk.  But  I  don't 
think  I  could  be  offended  with  you,  and  I  don't  be- 
lieve anybody  ever  was.  You  are  so  good-tempered 
and  easy  and  outspoken,  that  to  misunderstand  you 
would  be  like  playing  hide-and-seek  in  a  sunny  gar- 
den with  no  corners  ?  " 

"  Would  it  ?  "     And  the  rector's  smile  was  sad. 

"  Yes.  Don't  you  know  that  one  of  the  reasons 
why  you  are  so  nice  is  that  you  are  so  unreserved? 
I  don't  like  reserved  people,  who  never  open  the  in- 
ner doors  of  their  hearts  to  you,  but  make  you  sit 
down  in  the  hall  and  wait  till  they  are  ready  to  speak 
to  you,  as  if  you  were  a  tradesman  calling  for  an 
order." 

"  Still  one  cannot  give  the  same  welcome  to  all 
one's  friends  and  acquaintances,"  replied  Philip,  sit- 
ting down  beside  Elfrida  on  the  old  seat  under  the 
cedar-tree.  "  Some,  as  you  say,  have  to  be  left  in 
the  hall ;  others  are  admitted  into  the  reception- 
rooms,  and  there  entertained ;  a  few  come  down  with 
us  to  the  dungeons  in  the  depths  of  our  hearts,  where 


336  A    DOUBLE    THREAD. 

our  hopes  were  once  starved  to  death  and  now  lie 
buried ;  and  fewer  still  ascend  to  our  Holy  of  Holies, 
and  pray  and  praise  with  us  there.  Then  should 
you  condemn  us  as  reserved  because  we  do  not  ad- 
mit the  public  into  these  private  sanctums  ?  " 

"  Of  course  not ;  it  would  be  very  cheap  to  let 
strangers  into  all  our  sacred  places,  and  the  opposite 
of  reserve  is  not  necessarily  cheapness.  But  the  dif- 
ference between  reserved  and  unreserved  people  is 
that  the  latter  allow  strangers  to  come  into  their 
heart's  dining-rooms  and  drawing-rooms  and  libra- 
ries, while  the  former  make  casual  visitors  wait  out- 
side in  the  hall.  And  I  don't  like  waiting  outside  in 
halls ;  I  find  it  very  chilly." 

The  rector  nodded.  "  Did  you  ever  go  into  a 
house  where  there  was  an  ordinary  dining-room  and 
drawing-room,  as  there  are  in  scores  of  houses,  and 
you  walked  into  them  at  once  and  said  to  yourself, 
'  I  know  exactly  what  this  house  is  like,  because  it  is 
exactly  like  every  other  house  in  the  street ' ;  and 
after  a  time  you  discovered  a  door  leading  out  of 
the  ordinary  dining-room  or  drawing-room  into 
some  wonderful  ballroom  or  concert-hall  or  picture- 
gallery,  of  which  you  had  not  dreamed  when  you 
entered  the  house,  but  which  now  you  found  was  the 
central  idea  of  it,  and  showed  the  governing  spirit 
of  the  whole  place?  There  are  scores  of  houses  like 
this,  especially  in  London ;  and  I  fancy  there  are 
scores  of  souls,  too." 

"  I  know  precisely  what  you  mean  about  the 
houses.  I  have  been  inside  heaps  of  them,  and  they 
are  such  pleasant  surprises." 

"  I  am  always  on  the  look-out  for  annexes  of  this 
kind  built  on  to  human  hearts,"  continued  Mr.  Cart- 
wright  :  "  it  is  never  safe  to  call  anybody  common- 


ELFRIDA   AT   GREYSTONE. 


337 


place  and  uninteresting  till  you  are  quite  sure  that 
their  souls  have  erected  no  outbuildings  of  this  sort. 
The  front  of  a  man's  house  is  the  house  that  he  has 
inherited  from  his  forefathers,  or  else  it  is  constructed 
according  to  the  style  of  architecture  which  hap- 
pens to  be  in  vogue ;  but  the  annexe  shows  his  own 
tastes  and  idiosyncrasies,  and  so  is  part  of  himself; 
which  things  are  an  allegory." 

"  Should  you  call  a  man  reserved  or  the  reverse 
who  threw  open  his  ordinary  reception-rooms  to  the 
public,  and  yet  kept  his  annexe  to  himself,  I  won- 
der?" 

"  Ah !  that  is  what  I  am  coming  to.  The  world 
would  call  him  a  nice,  outspoken,  cheery  fellow,  with 
no  reserve  about  him ;  but  I  should  say  that  your 
vestibule  friends  were  open-hearted  and  gushing  as 
compared  with  him.  In  their  case,  you  know  there 
must  be  a  dining-room  and  drawing-room,  though 
you  are  excluded  from  them ;  but  in  his  case,  having 
been  made  free  of  the  reception-rooms,  you  have  no 
idea  there  is  anything  else  to  see  at  all.  Therefore 
his  secret  is  infinitely  better  kept  than  theirs." 

"  You  think  that  the  really  reserved  people  are 
those  who  appear  to  be  the  most  unreserved.  I  won- 
der if  you  are  right  ?  "  Elfrida  said. 

"  Probably  not ;  I  very  rarely  am.  Nevertheless, 
that  is  my  opinion." 

Elfrida  idly  watched  the  sunlight  glinting 
through  the  dark  boughs  of  the  cedar-tree,  and  un- 
consciously felt  soothed  by  the  droning  hum  in  the 
air  which  is  the  Te  Deum  of  the  insect  world  She 
was  mentally  very  tired  by  all  that  she  had  gone 
through  during  the  past  year,  and  when  one  is  men- 
tally tired  there  is  nothing  so  restful  as  an  old-fash- 
ioned garden.  Elfrida  Harland  was  one  of  the 


338  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

women  never  intended  by  Nature  to  stand  alone ;  yet 
Fate  had  willed  that  she  should  so  stand ;  conse- 
quently her  character  had  grown  out  of  shape,  like  a 
young  tree  that  is  exposed  to  winds  too  strong  for 
it.  Perhaps  there  is  no  craving  of  the  human  heart 
so  universal  as  the  craving  to  be  understood — not  to 
be  admired  or  praised  or  idealized,  but  merely  to  be 
comprehended.  We  take  it  for  granted  that  the 
world  in  general  will  misapprehend  our  intentions 
and  misinterpret  our  motives ;  but  we  all  like  to  feel 
that  there  is  one  friend  who  can  translate  the  story 
of  our  lives  without  a  glossary,  and  who  requires  no 
interpreter  when  our  souls  hold  converse  together. 
If  one  person  understands  us  thoroughly,  then  the 
rest  may  blunder  as  much  as  they  please,  and  we 
shall  only  laugh  with  that  one  at  their  mistakes ;  but 
if  that  one  be  lacking,  then  the  drama  of  life  is  not 
worth  the  acting.  A  tragedy  played  before  vacant 
stalls  comes  perilously  near  to  being  a  comedy ; 
while  a  comedy  with  no  applause  save  the  echoes  of 
an  empty  house,  is  tragic  indeed.  All  her  life  Elfrida 
had  been  seeking  for  that  audience  of  one,  and  as  yet 
had  never  found  him ;  for  though  Jack  had  loved 
her  devotedly  he  had  misjudged  her.  Consequently 
she  was  losing  her  interest  in  life,  and  her  brilliancy 
at  the  same  time ;  and  she  was  gradually  falling  into 
that  fatal  error  that  nothing  is  worth  while.  To 
such  women  there  comes  a  time  when  they  cease  to 
take  the  trouble  to  talk  well  or  to  utter  smart  say- 
ings ;  then  things  are  bad  with  them,  but  not  hope- 
lessly so.  There  is  a  further  stage,  when  they  cease 
to  curl  their  fringes  or  to  wear  their  best  clothes ; 
then  things  are  so  bad  with  them  that  they  could  not 
well  be  worse.  Elfrida  fortunately  had  not  reached 
this  second  stage ;  for  she  had  never  looked  lovelier 


ELFRIDA   AT   GREYSTONE. 


339 


than  she  looked  that  summer  morning  in  the  rec- 
tory garden,  with  a  pensive  expression  upon  ,her 
usually  proud  face.  And  so  Philip  Cartwright 
thought. 

"  Do  you  know,  I  have  outlived  all  my  illu- 
sions ?  "  she  said,  suddenly  turning  to  him. 

"  Oh  no,  you  have  not ;  if  you  had,  you  would 
not  say  so." 

"  Shouldn't  I  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not.  You  may  take  it  as  an  axiom 
that  if  any  one  voluntarily  and  gratuitously  offers  a 
piece  of  information,  that  piece  of  information  is  in- 
variably incorrect." 

"  There's  something  in  that.  No  woman  under 
thirty  ever  talks  about  her  youth,  and  no  man  in 
Society  ever  tells  you  he  is  a  gentleman.  I  think 
you  are  right ;  if  people  vouchsafe  statements  it 
means  that  they  don't  believe  them,  but  they  hope 
that  you  will ;  just  as  when  they  assure  you  that  they 
will  never  do  a  certain  thing,  you  may  take  it  for 
granted  that  that  is  the  one  thing  they  will  do." 

"  I  should  say,  my  dear  Miss  Harland,  that  the 
trouble  is  not  that  you  have  outlived  your  illusions, 
but  that  you  have  not." 

Elfrida  sighed.  "  I  always  get  disappointed  in 
people,  somehow." 

"  Naturally ;  because  you  expect  so  much  more 
from  them  than  you  are  willing  to  give  in  return." 

Miss  Harland  started ;  she  was  not  accustomed 
to  being  scolded.  Nevertheless,  she  bore  it  well ; 
because  it  is  a  fact  that  while  unattractive  women  dis- 
like to  be  scolded,  attractive  ones  generally  enjoy  it 
— given  always  that  the  man  who  scolds  has  not  the 
slightest  right  to  do  so. 

"  I  don't  know.     I'm  sure  I  could  be  awfully  fond 


340 


A   DOUBLE    THREAD. 


of  people  if  only  they  would  let  me,"  she  expostu- 
lated. 

"  There  are,  however,  no  '  ifs  '  in  love,"  replied 
Mr.  Cartwright. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  analyse  my  feelings  too  much," 
Elfrida  mused. 

"  I  think  you  do,  as  far  as  your  own  comfort  is 
concerned ;  but  you  have  a  perfect  right  to  do  what 
you  like  with  your  own  feelings.  Where  I  quarrel 
with  you  is  that  you  are  too  fond  of  analysing  other 
people's ;  and  that,  I  say,  you  have  no  right  to  do, 
as  you  do  not  and  cannot  know  all  the  ingredients. 
You  are  like  the  Irish  boy  who  was  set  to  analyse  a 
lump  of  coal,  and  only  gave  two-thirds  of  the  compo- 
nent parts  because  he  said  he  had  only  analysed  two- 
thirds  of  the  lump." 

"  Do  you  think  that  is  my  way  ?  " 

"  Indeed  I  do.  You  always  seem  to  me  to  be 
rushing  about  with  a  little  figurative  clinical  ther- 
mometer, and  taking  people's  moral  temperatures, 
whether  they  will  or  no." 

Elfrida  laughed.     "  You  misjudge  my  motives." 

"  I  am  not  considering  your  motives  at  all ;  I  am 
merely  condemning  your  actions." 

"  But  don't  you  see,"  said  the  girl,  growing  seri- 
ous again,  "  that  I  don't  analyse  people's  feeling  out 
of  mere  curiosity,  as  so  many  women  do?  I  am  so 
hungry  for  love,  and  I  have  had  so  little  of  it  in  my 
life,  and  that  not  of  a  first-rate  quality,  that  I  want  to 
be  sure  that  I  have  got  hold  of  the  real  thing  before 
I  stake  my  all  upon  it.  You  would  never  buy  a  dia- 
mond till  you  had  examined  and  tested  it,  so  why 
should  you  a  heart  ?  " 

"  Still  I  shouldn't  cut  the  diamond  all  away,  to 
prove  that  it  was  a  gem  of  the  first  water." 


ELFRIDA   AT    GREYSTONE. 


341 


"  But  when  I  care  for  people  at  all,  I  care  for 
them  so  much  that  I  want  to  make  sure  they  are 
worth  caring  for  before  I  begin.  Don't  you  know 
how  disappointing  it  is  to  give  of  your  very  best, 
and  then  to  find  that  your  second-best  would  have 
clone  quite  as  well?  It  is  dreadful  to  waste  your 
finest  brand  of  champagne  on  those  who  would  really 
have  preferred  small  beer !  " 

"  Ah !  you  remind  me  of  an  excellent  lady  who 
told  me  that  it  was  not  her  custom  to  have  tea 
brought  in  every  afternoon,  as  she  regarded  it  as 
an  extravagant  habit ;  but  that  if  I  would  like  a  cup, 
she  would  order  some  to  be  made  at  once.  That 
was  her  idea  of  hospitality ;  and  your  idea  of  friend- 
ship seems  to  me  on  a  par  with  it,  if  you  will  excuse 
my  saying  so." 

"  You  are  very  hard  on  me !  " 

The  rector  looked  amused.  ".Am  I?  Perhaps 
you  deserve  it." 

"  You  see,"  persisted  Elfrida,  "  that  the  more 
you  care  for  a  thing,  the  more  important  it  is  to  you 
that  that  thing  should  be  good  of  its  kind.  That  is 
what  I  feel.  If  a  house  is  going  to  be  your  home, 
you  bother  yourself  about  the  aspect  and  the  subsoil 
and  the  water-supply  in  a  way  that  you  would  never 
think  of  doing  if  you  were  only  a  casual  visitor. 
And  it  is  the  same  with  your  nearest  friends." 

"  My  dear  child,  can  you  imagine  Hagar — when 
she' found  the  well  of  water  in  the  wilderness — send- 
ing it  on  to  the  county  analyst?  And  do  you  think 
that  S.  Peter  wasted  any  time  in  psychical  research 
when  the  angel  appeared  to  lead  him  out  of  prison? 
No ;  there  are  some  things  too  true  for  demon- 
stration and  too  great  for  analysis ;  even  in  these 
days,  when  men  would  fain  reduce  love  to  a  neu- 


342 


A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 


rotic  sensation  and  Christianity  to  an  exact  sci- 
ence." 

Elfrida  began  digging  little  holes  in  the  turf  with 
the  point  of  her  parasol.  "  You  disapproved  of  my 
conduct  towards  Jack  Le  Mesurier,"  she  said  ab- 
ruptly. 

"  Most  entirely." 

"  And  you  take  his  part  in  being  so  horrid  about 
it,  and  refusing  to  forgive  me  ?  " 

"  On  the  contrary.  I  have  yet  to  learn  that  the 
magnitude  of  a  trespass  is  any  excuse  for  the  non- 
forgiveness  of  it." 

"  Then  if  you  had  been  in  Jack's  place  you  would 
have  forgiven  me  ?  "  Elfrida  persisted. 

Philip  was  silent  for  a  moment.  "  I  don't  know. 
All  I  know  is  that  if  I  had  been  in  Jack's  place  I 
ought  to  have  forgiven  you ;  which  is  not  quite  the 
same  thing.  But  -it  was  not  altogether  an  easy  thing 
to  forgive." 

"  I  couldn't  make  him  understand  that  it  was  be- 
cause I  cared  for  him  so  much  that  I  wanted  to  test 
him,"  said  Elfrida  hurriedly :  "  I  knew  that  other 
men  had  only  wanted  to  marry  me  for  the  sake  of  my 
money,  and  I  did  so  long  to  find  one  man  in  the 
world  who  loved  me  for  myself  alone." 

"  I  see ;  you  could  not  make  him  understand  that 
because  other  men  were  cads  you  naturally  expected 
that  he  would  be  a  cad  too.  It  was  stupid  of  him 
not  to  see  that,  wasn't  it? — and  still  more  stupid  to 
be  hurt  at  the  suggestion  ?  " 

"  I  know  I  was  horrid  to  him  and  that  I  have  only 
myself  to  blame  for  all  that  has  happened,"  said 
Elfrida  humbly ;  "  but  still  I  think  he  might  have 
forgiven  me  when  he  saw  how  sorry  I  was  and  how 
much  I  cared ;  don't  you  ?  " 


ELFRIDA  AT   GREYSTONE. 


343 


"  I  not  only  thought  so  but  I  said  so  to  him,  over 
and  over  again.  But,  alas !  it  is  so  much  easier  to 
break  than  to  mend,  and  to  hurt  than  to  heal.  And 
you  must  always  remember  that  it  is  the  very  inten- 
sity of  Jack's  love  for  you  that  makes  it  so  difficult 
for  him  to  forgive  you.  If  he  cared  less,  he  could 
more  easily  pardon." 

"  I  thought  real  love  could  forgive  anything." 

"  I  think  it  is  in  this  way,"  replied  Philip :  "  a 
small  love  forgives  much ;  a  great  love  forgives  little ; 
and  a  perfect  love  forgives  all.  But  a  perfect  love 
takes  long  to  grow,  my  child,  and  is  never  found  in 
romance's  earlier  stages." 

So  the  two  friends  sat  and  talked  in  the  old  rec- 
tory garden,  and  gradually  the  sunshine  of  the  sum- 
mer morning  penetrated  into  Elfrida's  soul.  When 
we  are  young  we  very  soon  get  tired  of  being  unhap- 
py, and  snatch  at  any  excuse  for  finding  life  pleas- 
ant again ;  and  a  man  of  the  type  of  Philip  Cart- 
wright  is  by  no  means  a  poor  excuse. 

As  for  poor  Jack  out  in  India,  he  was  just  now 
very  far  from  finding  life  pleasant — or  anything  else 
than  thoroughly  detestable ;  since  the  doggedness 
which  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  forgive  Elfrida, 
made  it  equally  impossible  for  him  to  forget  her,  or 
even  to  love  her  any  the  less  in  spite  of  all  his  anger 
against  her.  Considering  which  peculiarity  of  Jack's 
disposition,  it  was  a  great  mistake  on  the  part  of 
Jack's  judgment  to  allow  Elfrida  the  chance  of  for- 
getting him  even  for  a  minute.  If  a  man  objects  to 
the  appointment  of  a  rival  in  a  woman's  heart,  he 
should  not  create  a  vacancy.  But  men  are  not  al- 
ways wise ;  or  else  how  could  women  get  on  with 
them  at  all  ? 

As  a  rule,  if  a  man  flies  off  at  a  tangent  because 


344  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

some  particular  woman  has  offended  him,  he  ex- 
pects— when  his  fury  has  abated — 1£>  find  that  wom- 
an sitting  quietly  waiting  for  him  exactly  where  he 
left  her.  That  she  may  have  taken  advantage  of  his 
excursion  to  indulge  in  a  tangent  on  her  own  ac- 
count is  a  possibility  which  rarely  presents  itself  to 
the  masculine  intellect;  and  the  masculine  intellect 
is  accordingly  shocked  and  surprised  when  such  an 
unlooked-for  and  uncalled-for  contingency  arises. 
It  is  but  common  justice  to  mankind  to  add  that 
should  the  case  be  reversed  and  the  woman  be  the 
first  to  £>e  offended,  she  may  usually  count  upon  the 
man's  allowing  the  same  tolerance  that  he  expects ; 
and  she  may  safely  depend  upon  finding  him — when 
her  rage  has  exhausted  itself — at  the  precise  point  in 
their  mutual  friendship  where  they  parted.  But,  of 
course,  when  a  man  begins  to  reason  that  because 
he  is  a  reasonable  being  a  woman  is  a  reasonable 
being  also,  he  merely  proves  that  his  alleged  reason- 
ableness is  an  empty  boast;  which,  as  Euclid  would 
say,  is  absurd. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

SIR    ROGER. 

"  Shall  we  find,  above  the  sphere 

Of  our  woes, 

All  the  moons  we  cried  for  here? — 
No  one  knows." 

DURING  that  first  summer  of  Elfrida's  life  at 
Greystone  Sir  Roger  Le  Mesttrier  wrote  a  book;  a 
cheery,  gossiping,  delightful  book  of  reminiscences, 
full  of  that  spicy  wit  and  vicarious  reserve  whereby 
an  author  is  so  successful  in  fascinating  his  read- 
ers and  estranging  his  friends.  Sir  Roger  had  been 
everywhere  and  known  everybody  in  his  time ;  con- 
sequently he  had  tales  to  tell  which  were  as  marrow, 
and  fatness  to  all  such  dwellers  in  outer  darkness  as 
are  not  mentioned  in  the  pages  of  Sir  Bernard  Burke. 
"  Society  with  an  aspirate  "  (as  an  excellent  old  lady 
used  to  refer  to  the  capital  S)  did  not  altogether  ap- 
prove of  Sir  Roger's  book,  yet  read  it  all  the  more 
diligently  on  this  account ;  but  that  Greater  Britain, 
which  lies  outside  the  Red  Book,  fairly  revelled  in 
the  volume,  and  perused  it  with  that  engrossing  in- 
terest which  all  healthy  and  right-minded  persons 
take  in  the  goings-out  and  the  comings-in  of  their 
social  superiors.  Dear,  normal,  fallen  human  nature 
finds  it  difficult  to  realize — even  in  imagination — a 
23  345 


346  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

heaven  wherein  the  angels  are  not  consumed  by  a 
laudable  and  absorbing  curiosity  as  to  the  domestic 
arrangements  of  the  archangels.  And,  at  the  bot- 
tom of  our  comfortable,  English,  evil  hearts,  we 
should  none  of  us  feel  any  the  less  at  home  with  them 
if  they  were. 

The  book  had  a  great  run ;  and — which  was  more 
important  to  the  author — it  made  a  great  deal  of 
money.  Sir  Roger  was  very  keen  on  making  money 
just  then. 

"  I  wonder,"  Elfrida  said  to  him  one  autumn  day, 
as  they  were  strolling  together  through  the  gardens 
at  Greystone,  "  that  you  never  wrote  a  book  before, 
now  that  I  see  how  awfully  good  you  are  at  it.  If 
you  can  do  it  now,  you  could  have  done  it  years  ago." 

"  Precisely :  that  probably  is  the  reason  why  I 
did  not.  Have  you  never  noticed  that,  as  a  rule, 
books  are  not  written  by  the  people  who  can  write 
them,  but  by  the  people  who  can't?  " 

Elfrida  was  silent  for  a  minute.  "  I  wonder  what 
made  you  begin  now,"  she  repeated. 

"  Do  you  ?  I  should  have  thought  you  would 
have  been  clever  enough  to  find  that  out,  and  to 
laugh  at  me  accordingly.  Why,  I  have  been  laugh- 
ing all  my  life  at  people  who  put  themselves  out  for 
the  sake  of  other  people ;  it  seemed  to  me  such  an 
idiotic  thing  to  do :  and  yet  I  have  become  such  a 
fool  in  my  old  age  that  I  am  actually  wasting  the 
last  years  of  my  life  in  work,  so  that  I  may  leave 
Greystone  to  Jack  with  enough  money  to  keep  it  up. 
Did  you  ever  come  across  such  a  piece  of  arrant 
folly?" 

Elfrida  laid  her  hand  caressingly  on  the  old 
man's  arm.  "  I  think  it  is  awfully  nice  of  you  to  do 
it!" 


SIR   ROGER. 


347 


"  I  can't  see  that  myself.  I  am  doing  what  I 
want  to  do,  and  there  is  no  special  virtue  in  that. 
The  point  of  the  joke  lies  in  my  wanting  anything 
so  absurd  as  to  secure  the  happiness  of  a  young  ass 
with  whose  prejudices  I  have  not  common  patience." 

"  You  see  you  are  a  lot  better  than  you  pretend 
to  be ;  and  though  you  jeer  at  Jack's  hyper-con- 
scientiousness, it  nevertheless  appeals  to  you." 

Sir  Roger  laughed  his  piping  little  laugh.  "  My 
dear  child,  what  an  absurd  notion !  I  am  no  better 
than  I  pretend  to  be,  goodness  knows !  I  am  not 
doing  this  because  Jack's  conscientiousness  now  ap- 
peals to  me,  but  because  the  beauty  of  Jack's  mother 
appealed  to  me  thirty  years  ago.  Don't  indulge  in 
illusions,  Elfrida :  they  smell  of  bread-and-butter ; 
and  the  smell  of  bread-and-butter  is  repulsive  to  the 
adult  masculine  nose." 

"  Probably  when  you  have  made  the  money,  Jack 
will  throw  it  away  on  account  of  some  absurd  scru- 
ple," said  Elfrida  bitterly. 

"  I  shouldn't  be  surprised ;  it  would  be  most 
characteristic  of  him,"  replied  Sir  Roger. 

"  The  worst  of  Jack  is  that  he  doesn't  care  enough 
about  what  he  does  care  about." 

"  Pardon  me,  my  dear  young  lady ;  that  is  where 
you  make  a  mistake.  He  cares  so  much  that  he  is 
ashamed  of  showing  how  much  he  cares.  If  he  cared 
less  he  would  show  it  more." 

Elfrida  sighed :  in  spite  of  her  growing  interest  in 
Philip  Cartwright,  her  old  love  for  Jack  was  still  sub- 
ject to  severe  relapses.  "  I  wish  he  had  cared  less  for 
his  conscience  and  more  for  me,"  she  said. 

"  Pooh !  my  dear,  it  wasn't  his  conscience  at  all 
that  came  between  you.  He  thought  it  was ;  but  it 
was  really  his  pride.  And  now  he  is  too  proud  to 


348  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

let  you  know  how  dreadfully  he  wants  you.  Jack 
always  was  a  fool,  you  know ;  and  never  more  so 
than  when  he  threw  up  Greystone  for  the  sake  of  a 
deceitful  little  minx  like  you."  And  Sir  Roger  pat- 
ted the  girl's  shoulder  indulgently. 

"  I  don't  believe  he  wants  me  now." 

"  Don't  you  ?  Then  I  know  him  better  than  you 
do.  But  it  is  a  great  mistake  ever  to  let  your  pride 
come  between  you  and  the  thing  you  want.  I  fail 
to  see  the  sense  of  pretending  that  you  don't  care 
about  an  object  that  you  are  really  longing  for:  yet 
scores  of  men  do  it,  whereof  our  dear  Jack  is  not 
the  least.  And  scores  of  women,  too." 

"  I  suppose  it  is  a  sort  of  shyness." 

"  A  sort  of  shyness,  Elfrida  ?  It  is  rather  a  sort 
of  madness.  Why,  I've  known  men  lose  many 
things — from  the  representation  of  a  constituency 
down  to  the  love  of  a  woman — through  pretending 
they  didn't  want  them  when  they  did.  If  you  want 
anything  out  of  people,  always  give  them  to  under- 
stand that  the  boon  which  they  have  it  in  their  power 
to  bestow  is  the  most  desirable  blessing  on  the  face 
of  the  earth.  It  tickles  their  vanity,  you  see ;  and 
vanity,  like  charity,  is  a  virtue  which  never  fails." 

"  Then  if  we  were  wise  we  should  rather  over- 
praise than  underpraise  the  thing  which  we  covet." 

"  Certainly.  For  what  we  are  going  to  receive, 
we  should  always  be  truly  thankful :  with  regard  to 
what  we  have  already  received,  we  can  afford  to  ex- 
ercise our  own  judgment,  and  to  speak  truth  with  our 
neighbours." 

Elfrida  followed  the  train  of  her  own  thoughts  as 
she  and  Sir  Roger  sat  down  in  an  arbour  cut  out  of 
the  old  yew  hedge.  The  master  of  Greystone  was 
much  feebler  than  he  used  to  be,  and  could  not  now 


SIR   ROGER. 


349 


walk  for  any  distance  without  sitting  down  to  rest. 
Then  she  said :  "  Mr.  Cartwright  and  I  have  been 
wondering  whether  you  are  really  pleased  about  the 
success  of  your  book.  I  was  surprised  that  he  didn't 
know  exactly  what  you  felt  about  it ;  but  he  said  that 
he  had  no  more  idea  about  it  than  I  had,  you  were  so 
difficult  to  understand." 

Sir  Roger  looked  up  sharply.  "  Why  should  you 
be  surprised?  " 

"  I  thought  you  and  he  knew  each  other  so  well 
that  you  would  be  sure  to  confide  in  each  other." 

"  But,  my  dear,  that  is  usually  the  reason  why 
people  do  not  confide  in  each  other.  As  a  rule,  the 
more  intimately  we  know  our  friends  the  less  we  con- 
fide in  them." 

Elfrida  shook  her  pretty  head.  "  You  don't 
mean  that  a  bit,  really :  all  that  nastiness  of  yours  is 
put  on.  But  I  want  to  know  if  you  are  pleased  about 
your  book.  Mr.  Cartwright  says  he  should  be  de- 
lighted if  he  had  written  a  book  that  was  such  a  bril- 
liant success." 

"  Ah !  Cartwright  has  a  grateful  heart.  I  have 
noticed  that  he  invariably  returns  thanks  after  a  bad 
dinner,  and  holds  harvest  festivals  when  there  is  a 
scarcity  in  wheat." 

"  But  are  you  pleased  at  the  success  of  your 
book  ?  "  Elfrida  persisted. 

"No;  I  am  not  pleased.  Why  should  I  be? 
Fame  is  not  a  thing  that  appeals  to  me.  I  have  never 
got  what  I  wanted  in  all  my  life,  and  I  don't  care  to 
be  chalked  off  with  something  that  I  do  not  want.  I 
feel  like  a  child  who  cries  in  vain  for  a  rocking-horse, 
and  then  is  consoled  by  its  fond  mother  with  a  loz- 
enge. I  always  pity  the  poor  little  beggars  who 
can't  get  the  toys  they  ask  for,  and  yet  are  expected 


350 


A   DOUBLE    THREAD. 


to  be  grateful  and  contented  because  their  parents 
have  given  them  something  entirely  different.  I 
know  exactly  how  they  feel." 

"  I  suppose  we  all  of  us  cry  for  the  moon  at  some 
time  or  another,"  said  Elfrida  softly. 

"  But,  my  dear,  I  didn't  cry  for  the  moon :  that  is 
what  I  am  complaining  of.  I  cried  for  a  fireside  of 
my  own,  such  as  other  men  have ;  and  Providence 
chalked  me  off  with  the  moon  instead." 

During  that  winter  Sir  Roger  failed  visibly;  al- 
most each  day  found  him  perceptibly  weaker  than 
the  last ;  yet  he  managed  to  write  a  second  book 
of  reminiscences  which  proved  even  a  greater  success 
than  his  first  one,  and  brought  in  a  considerably 
larger  sum  of  money. 

"  It  is  no  good,"  he  said  to  Elfrida  in  the  early 
spring :  "  I  shall  never  live  long  enough  to  make  a 
fortune  for  Jack.  It  is  an  interesting  example  of  the 
elementary  education  provided  for  our  souls  by 
Providence,  that  the  moment  I  try  to  make  my  life 
of  use  to  any  one  but  my  wretched  self,  it  is  cut  off. 
Providence  certainly  has  strange  views  with  regard 
to  elementary  education.  I  have  often  remarked 
upon  it." 

"  So  have  I." 

"  Apparently  if  there  is  one  thing  the  possession 
of  which  would  make  us  into  good  men  and  women, 
that  thing  is  denied  us  ;  and  then  we  are  punished  for 
not  being  the  good  men  and  women  which  it  was  im- 
possible for  us  to  become  without  it.  I  am  not  find- 
ing fault ;  I  am  only  saying  that  it  seems  peculiar." 

"  I  wonder  if  Mr.  Cartwright  could  explain  it," 
said  Elfrida. 

"  I  feel  sure  that  he  could ;  and  also  that  his  ex- 
planation would  be  eminently  unsatisfactory.  Our 


SIR   ROGER. 


351 


dear  friend  Cartwright  is  an  admirable  man,  but  he 
is  a  little  too  fond  of  explaining  things.  If  you  find 
his  explanations  conclusive,  accept  them  by  all 
means ;  but  I  don't." 

"  But  all  the  things  that  perplex  us  will  be  ex- 
plained one  day,  don't  you  think  ?  "  asked  Elf rida 
timidly. 

Sir  Roger  smiled.  "  Possibly ;  but  not  by  Cart- 
wright." 

After  a  pause  he  went  on :  "  You  see,  as  far  as  I 
can  make  out,  most  of  your  troubles  and  Cartwright's 
and  Jack's  were  in  the  first  instance  your  own  fault. 
Now  there  is  some  satisfaction  in  that." 

"  Oh !  I  don't  agree  with  you.  I  think  troubles 
for  which  we  have  ourselves  to  thank  are  the  hardest 
to  bear  of  all." 

Sir  Roger  shook  his  head.  "  No :  if  a  thing  is 
your  own  doing,  you  feel  you  are  bound  to  bear 
quietly  the  consequences  of  it,  if  you've  any  pluck 
in  you.  If  you  have  had  the  goods,  you  mustn't 
grumble  at  paying  the  bill  for  them.  What  I  object 
to  is  paying  the  bill  for  goods  I  have  never  had. 
That  is  a  most  unremunerative  form  of  expendi- 
ture." 

"  But  it  is  so  much  more  comfortable  to  pity  one- 
self than  to  blame  oneself,  don't  you  think  ?  " 

"  Neither  would  amuse  me,  because  I  never  blame 
nor  pity  anybody.  I  have  plenty  of  Christian  char- 
ity, and  it  is  of  the  lowest  temperature.  If  I  had  had 
my  chance  and  missed  it,  I  would  have  borne  cheer- 
fully the  consequences  of  my  own  folly,  feeling  that 
they  served  me  right ;  but  I  have  never  had  my 
chance." 

"  Still  you  seem  to  me  to  have  had  a  lot  of  good 
things,"  argued  Elfrida ;  "  brains  and  rank  and 


352  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

money  are  not  unimportant  drugs  in  the  making  up 
of  life's  prescription." 

"  My  dear,  you  have  never  been  a  man  too  feeble 
for  men  to  fear  and  too  grotesque  for  women  to  love. 
Who  would  realize  that  King  Lear  was  a  tragedy  if 
it  were  bound  in  the  cover  of  Comic  Cuts?  And 
who  would  refrain  from  laughing  at  Hamlet  if  he 
were  made  up  as  Punchinello  ?  " 

Elfrida  did  not  speak,  but  she  stroked  Sir  Roger's 
hand.  After  a  moment's  silence  he  added  with  an 
amused  smile :  "  It  is  funny  of  me  to  be  telling  you 
all  this ;  but  I  think  I  could  always  have  told  a  wom- 
an anything,  only  no  woman  ever  had  the  patience 
to  listen  to  me.  Yet  if  I  had  been  six  feet  high,  in- 
stead of  five,  the  dear  creatures  would  have  mourned 
over  the  spoiling  of  my  dinner,  and  wept  at  the 
breakage  of  my  finger-nail."  t 

"  I  am  sure,  dear  Sir  Roger,  that  you  exaggerate 
the  importance  of  appearance." 

"  Perhaps  so.  We  are  inclined  to  think  that  the 
people  who  are  dying  of  starvation  exaggerate  the 
importance  of  bread.  Bread  does  not  make  us 
happy ;  then  why  should  the  absence  of  it  render 
them  so  extremely  the  reverse  ?  As  I  have  told  you 
before,  if  you  want  to  know  how  much  a  thing  is 
worth,  ask  the  people  who  have  not  got  it ;  if  you 
want  to  know  how  little  it  is  worth,  ask  the  people 
who  have." 

"  Still  I  cannot  think  that  mere  size  is  as  of  as 
much  importance  as  you  do,"  said  Elfrida  wisely, 
having  fallen  in  love  herself  with  a  man  that  stood 
six-feet-two  in  his  stockings ;  "  the  greatest  men 
have  often  been  the  smallest." 

"  My  dear  Elfrida,  I  know  that  you  can  carve 
Miltons  out  of  cherry-stones;  but  they  will  be 


SIR   ROGER. 


353 


'  mute  inglorious  Miltons  '  at  best.  As  it  happens, 
strength  and  beauty  are  the  two  things  that  I  think 
worth  having,  and  they  are  the  two  things  that  Provi- 
dence most  markedly  denied  me.  I  should  therefore 
be  a  humbug  if  I  went  about  '  thanking  the  goodness 
and  the  grace '  which  has  made  me,  of  all  types  of 
men,  the  one  I  most  particularly  dislike  and  despise. 
Do  you  think  I  don't  know  that  if  I  had  been  as  big 
and  as  handsome  as  my  brother,  Jack's  mother 
would  have  loved  me  quite  as  well?  And  do  you 
think  I  don't  know  that  I  loved  her  a  thousand  times 
better  than  he  was  capable  of  loving  any  woman? 
But  she  mistook  my  tragedy  for  burlesque  because  I 
was  such  a  wretched  little  apology  for  a  man." 

"  I  don't  wonder  you  feel  bitter  if  you  think  that," 
said  Elfrida,  in  a  soothing  voice. 

"  I  have  been  bitter  enough,  heaven  knows !  But 
now  all  the  bitterness  has  evaporated,  or  else  I  could 
not  talk  about  it.  When  one  has  nearly  done  with  a 
thing,  one  ceases  to  mind  it  much  one  way  or  an- 
other, you  know ;  and  I  should  as  soon  think  of 
abusing  my  feeble  little  body  now,  as  I  should  think 
of  scolding  a  cook  that  was  leaving.  Many  a  time," 
continued  the  old  man,  laughing  softly,  "  have  I 
made  up  scathing  sentences  and  scorching  anathe- 
mas, while  I  was  eating  a  vilely  cooked  dinner,  ready 
to  hurl  at  the  head  of  the  priestess  of  the  kitchen  ere 
she  took  her  flight ;  but  when  the  time  came  for  her 
actually  to  depart,  I  was  content  to  pay  her  her  wages 
and  let  her  go  in  peace,  thankful  to  feel  that  I  had 
seen  the  last  of  her.  And  that  is  how  I  feel  about 
this  miserable  little  body  of  mine.  I  have  hated  and 
cursed  it  with  all  my  heart  in  the  old  days,  and  shall 
be  thankful  to  be  rid  of  it ;  but  now  that  it  and  I  have 
got  to  part  company  we  may  as  well  part  friends." 


354  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

In  spite  of  Sir  Roger's  failing  health  and  Jack's 
continued  estrangement,  that  winter  had  not  been 
altogether  an  unhappy  one  to  Elfrida.  She  would 
have  said  that  it  had  been  wretched ;  but  we  are  not 
very  miserable,  as  we  are  not  very  happy,  "  when  we 
can  say  how  much  " ;  and  Miss  Harland  could  have 
published  a  temperature  chart  of  her  unhappiness  at 
that  particular  time,  so  completely  had  she  her  symp- 
toms at  her  finger-ends.  All  this  time  Philip  Cart- 
wright  had  never  said  a  word  of  love  to  the  girl,  or 
shown  her  anything  save  the  warmest  friendship ; 
but  Love  and  Friendship  are  sisters  so  much  alike 
that  it  is  not  always  easy  to  tell  the  difference  be- 
tween them,  especially  when  they  are  similarly 
dressed.  Sometimes  even  they  are  not  quite  sure 
themselves  which  is  which. 

Elfrida  had  now  been  at  Greystone  Dower  House 
for  a  whole  year;  and  during  that  time  there  had 
rarely  been  a  day  when  she  and  Philip  had  not  met 
at  least  once.  Therefore  he  was  fast  becoming  a 
habit  to  her ;  and  the  man  who  becomes  a  habit  to 
any  woman  has  an  enormous  score  in  his  favour  as 
far  as  she  is  concerned,  even  though  she  may  not 
know  it.  Moreover,  Philip  had  come  into  her  life 
exactly  at  the  point  when  Jack  had  created  such  a 
gaping  hole  therein ;  and  she  had  unconsciously  en- 
dowed Mr.  Cartwright  with  some  of  her  former  lov- 
er's cast-off  attributes.  She  argued  that  because 
Jack  had  trusted  her  all  through  the  scare  about  the 
pink  diamond,  Philip  would  have  trusted  her  also, 
since  men  are  so  much  alike ;  and  that  because  Jack 
had  refused  to  pardon  her  duplicity,  Philip  would 
have  forgiven  it  freely,  since  men  are  so  entirely  dif- 
ferent. Peculiar  reasoning,  perhaps,  but  essentially 
feminine. 


SIR  ROGER. 


355 


Sir  Roger  grew  rapidly  worse  when  the  east  wind 
set  in  fiercely,  as  it  has  a  way  of  doing  in  the  early 
spring.  He  was  now  confined  to  his  room,  and 
there  Elfrida  went  to  see  him  every  day,  like  the  most 
devoted  daughter.  She  had  first  loved  him  for  Jack's 
sake ;  now  she  had  learnt  to  love  him  for  his  own. 
It  fretted  him  dreadfully  that  he  could  not  continue 
his  literary  career  and  so  make  sufficient  money  to 
enable  Jack  to  keep  up  Greystone  properly.  He  had 
decided  to  leave  the  place  with  the  title,  and  as  much 
money  as  he  could  scrape  together;  but  he  was 
sorely  afraid  that  Jack  would  be  compelled  to  let  the 
house,  or  else  shut  up  half  of  it  and  live  in  the  other 
half. 

"  My  dear,"  he  said  to  Elfrida  one  afternoon  as 
she  came  in  and  sat  down  by  his  sofa,  "  Cartwright 
has  been  talking  so  very  prettily  and  properly  to  me 
about  angels,  and  things  of  that  kind.  But  the  pro- 
voking thing  is  that  I  don't  care  at  all  about  seeing 
angels ;  I  never  took  the  slightest  interest  in  angels : 
they  always  seem  to  me  to  be  nothing  but  glorified 
maiden-aunts.  For  my  part,  I  had  much  rather  see 
Jack's  mother." 

"  I  expect  you  will  see  her,  too." 

"  Perhaps  so ;  and  then  for  the  first  time  in  my 
life  I  shall  be  able  to  talk  to  her  without  feeling  that 
she  was  laughing  at  me  for  being  so  small.  Hang 
it  all,  Elfrida!  how  can  a  man  talk  properly  to  a 
woman  in  this  world,  or  in  any  other,  when  she  is 
half  a  head  taller  than  he  is?  The  thing  can't  be 
done." 

"  What  made  you  love  her  so  ?  "  asked  Elfrida. 

"  Good  gracious,  child,  what  a  question !  Though 
I  was  fool  enough  to  fall  in  love,  I  never  was  fool 
enough  to  try  to  find  a  reason  for  it.  The  fool  who 


356  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

recognizes  his  folly  as  folly  is  wise ;  but  the  wise  man 
who  mistakes  his  folly  for  wisdom  is  a  fool." 

"  But  if  you  love  a  person  very  much  you  must 
know  why  you  love  them,"  persisted  the  girl,  who 
never  indulged  in  any  feeling  herself  without  finding 
a  reason  for  it. 

"  Indeed ;  you  astonish  me.  Now  my  experi- 
ence is  that  people  never  really  love  one  another  un- 
less there  is  every  reason  why  they  should  not ;  but 
of  course  my  experience  may  have  misled  me." 

Elfrida  shook  her  head ;  she  prided  herself  upon 
her  wisdom  just  now,  because  she  felt  she  was  behav- 
ing so  very  sensibly  about  Jack  Le  Mesurier.  So 
she  was ;  but  it  was  Mr.  Cartwright's  wit,  rather  than 
her  wisdom,  which  was  responsible  for  her  patient 
endurance  of  her  present  affliction.  "  There  must  be 
a  reason  even  if  one  is  unconscious  of  it,"  she  said 
didactically. 

"  The  only  reason  I  could  ever  find  for  people's 
falling  in  love  was  that  they  had  nothing  else  to  do ; 
that  is  a  good  enough  reason,  I  admit,  and  very  often 
the  true  one.  But  that  does  not  explain  why  one 
woman  should  weigh  down  the  scale  against  the  rest 
of  her  sex  put  together,  when  few  women  are  under 
nine  stone,  and  none  confess  to  being  over  eight. 
Don't  be  sensible,  Elfrida;  it  is  a  nasty  habit,  and 
grows  upon  one;  and  it  is  especially  objectionable 
in  a  woman.  Men  never  propose  to  sensible  women  ; 
because  they  know  that  if  they  do  they  will  be  ac- 
cepted." 

"  I  hate  fools,"  replied  Elfrida  shortly. 

"  So.  do  I,  my  dear ;  no  one  more.  But  your 
sensible  woman  is  a  fool  of  the  finest  water,  or  else 
she  would  never  let  it  be  found  out  how  sensible 
she  is." 


SIR   ROGER. 


357 


"But  you  like  sensible  men?" 

"  I  cannot  say ;  I  never  met  one." 

"  Well,  I  call  you  very  sensible,"  Elfrida  per- 
sisted. 

"  Oh !  my  dear,  my  dear,  what  are  you  coming 
to  ?  Call  a  man  sensible  who  has  loved  a  woman  and 
written  a  book !  What  will  you  say  next  ?  " 

"  You  only  did  what  you  knew  you  could  do, 
and  I  call  that  being  sensible." 

Sir  Roger  laughed  softly.  "  The  sensible  thing 
is  to  know  you  can  do  something,  and  yet  not  to  do 
it;  but  few  people  are  as  sensible  as  that,  I  regret 
to  say." 

Elfrida  still  demurred.  "  I  am  glad  they  are  not. 
Nevertheless  I  must  confess  that  I  do  not  like  people 
who  don't  know  their  own  limitations." 

"  In  that  case  your  circle  of  friends  must  have 
very  marked  limitations  indeed." 

There  was  a  minute's  silence,  while  Sir  Roger's 
eyes  wandered  over  the  familiar  fields  through  which 
he  was  never  to  walk  again.  Then  he  said  :  "  By  the 
way,  I  have  received  a  letter  this  morning  which  has 
raised  a  doubt  in  my  mind  as  to  the  justice  of  our 
comments  the  other  day  anent  the  ideas  of  Provi- 
dence regarding  elementary  education.  Old  Miss 
Camilla  Desmond  has  died,  and  the  whole  of  her  for- 
tune— no  inconsiderable  one — comes  to  Jack,  so 
now  I  can  leave  Greystone  to  him  in  peace,  knowing 
that  he  will  be  able  to  keep  up  the  place  properly." 

"  Oh !  I  am  so  glad.  It  will  mean  so  much  to 
Jack." 

"  It  is  so  like  Providence,"  said  Sir  Roger,  "  to 
start  me  working  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  for  an- 
other person,  and  then  to  step  in  and  show  me  how 
easily  the  thing  can  be  accomplished  without  my  in- 


358  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

terference.  Still  I  am  not  sure  that,  from  an  educa- 
tional point  of  view,  this  course  of  treatment  is  such 
a  mistake  after  all." 

"  It  keeps  us  humble,  you  mean." 

"  No ;  I  should  have  meant  that  a  year  ago,  but  I 
do  not  now.  What  I  mean  is  it  teaches  us  that  the 
Divinity  which  shapes  our  ends  is  not  entirely  the 
automatic  and  bungling  affair  that  we,  in  ordinary 
life,  suppose  it  to  be.  Most  people  regard  Provi- 
dence as  a  sort  of  million-horse-power  steam-engine, 
which  we  guide  by  means  of  a  piston  called  prayer; 
but  which,  unguided  by  us,  would  run  off  the  lines 
altogether.  I  don't  mean  to  say  that  we  consciously 
believe  this ;  but  most  of  us  do  believe  it  practically 
all  the  same." 

Elfrida  laughed.  "  I  think  we  do,  and  we  try  to 
oil  the  wheels  of  the  steam-engine  by  self-denials  and 
penances  and  things  of  that  kind." 

"  Precisely ;  and  we  go  without  the  things  we  do 
not  much  care  about,  in  order  to  get  the  things  that 
we  do.  This  is  a  plan  which  recommends  itself 
strongly  to  most  people,  and  is  supposed  to  com- 
pletely take  in  Providence  and  ensure  to  us  what  we 
like.  But  we  must  never  say  out  loud  that  we  do 
like  it,  or  else  Providence  may  overhear  and  take  it 
from  us.  We  must  also  never  say  out  loud  that  we 
are  well  or  happy,  lest  Providence  should  overhear, 
and  make  us  ill  or  wretched  instead.  It  really  is  very 
funny,  but  it  is  also  very  true." 

"  Perfectly  true ;  scores  of  really  religious  people 
are  like  this." 

"  They  never  seem  to  realize,"  said  Sir  Roger 
dreamily,  "  that  the  wish  for  a  thing  is  nine  times 
out  of  ten  the  proof  that  such  a  thing  is  necessary  to 
us ;  and  the  proof  that  a  thing  is  necessary  to  us  is 


SIR   ROGER. 


359 


a  guarantee  for  getting  it  some  day ;  otherwise  why 
should  we  have  been  created  with  the  desire  for  it  ?  " 

"  But  do  you  think  that  eventually  we  shall  all  be 
what  we  might  have  been  ?  " 

"  I  presume  so.  Perfect  wisdom  must  include 
common  sense.  What  engineer  would  trouble  to 
construct  an  aqueduct  where  there  was  no  water,  or 
lay  down  a  set  of  rails  which  led  to  nowhere?  And 
I  cannot  believe  that  the  Almighty  is  less  wise  than 
a  civil  engineer.  I  admit  that  while  the  aqueduct  is 
being  built  there  is  no  water,  and  that  while  the  rails 
are  being  laid  down  there  are  no  locomotives  running 
up  and  down ;  but  that  does  not  prove  that  there 
never  will  be." 

"  You  mean  that  '  spirits  are  not  finely  touched 
but  to  fine  issues,'  "  replied  Elfrida  softly. 

"  My  dear  girl,  at  all  costs  avoid  the  besetment 
of  trite  quotation.  Inverted  commas  are  as  unfemi- 
nine  as  clay  pipes,  and  form  the  first  step  in  that 
downward  career  which  finally  lands  a  woman  in  a 
reputation  for  intelligence." 

"  But  I  thought  you  liked  clever  women." 

"  So  I  do,  provided  they  are  clever  enough  not  to 
be  intelligent.  But  an  intelligent  woman  is  a  thing 
that  my  soul  abhors ;  she  is  almost  as  bad  as  a  sweet 
woman,  and  nothing  could  be  worse." 

"  Your  views  of  life  have  changed  a  good  deal 
lately,"  remarked  Elfrida  after  a  pause. 

"  Naturally,  my  child.  Have  you  never  stayed 
with  people  whom  you  detested,  and  yet  felt  quite 
fond  of  them  on  the  last  day  of  your  visit  because  it 
was  the  last  ?  Have  you  never  found  the  most  weari- 
some journey  cease  to  be  wearisome  when  the  whistle 
had  sounded  for  the  last  station?  Nothing  is  un- 
bearable when  the  end  of  it  is  in  view." 


360  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  I  know  that.  I  believe  one  reason  why  the 
National  Anthem  is  such  a  popular  melody  is  because 
it  shows  that  entertainments  are  concluded." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  of  it ;  and  now  that  the  orches- 
tra is  tuning  up  for  my  last  National  Anthem,  I  am 
tempted  to  think  that  life's  entertainment  has  not 
been  such  a  dreary  affair  after  all ;  yet  while  it  was  in 
full  swing  I  considered  it  insufferable." 

"  Are  you  tired  of  it  ?  " 

"  Well,  it  is  in  this  way.  I  have  been  fighting 
against  God  all  my  life,  and  the  battle  has  lasted  till 
the  going  down  of  the  sun ;  but  a  gentleman  knows 
when  he  is  beaten  in  fair  fight,  and  feels  no  animosity 
when  he  lays  down  his  arms.  I  have  fought  and 
been  beaten,  and  am  laying  down  my  arms." 

Elfrida  looked  into  the  bright  eyes  which  still 
showed  the  indomitable  spirit  enclosed  in  the  feeble 
frame.  "  You  have  been  fighting  against  Man  all 
your  life  too,"  she  said,  "  and  Man  has  never  beaten 
you." 

"  Never.  Yet  Man  always  despised  me  for  being 
little,  and  I  don't  think  God  ever  did,  and  that  is 
where  the  sting  lay  in  my  dealings  with  Man.  Per- 
haps there  is  nothing  so  bitter  in  life  as  the  contempt 
of  one's  moral  and  intellectual  inferiors  on  account 
of  some  trifling  personal  or  pecuniary  disadvantage. 
No  man  can  drink  of  this  cup  without  feeling  the 
acid  eat  into  his  very  soul ;  I  have  drained  it  to  the 
dregs,  and  yet  people  are  surprised  that  I  do  not 
overflow  with  the  milk  of  human  kindness." 

"  And  now  you  are  not  afraid  ?  "  asked  Elfrida, 
her  eyes  filling  with  tears. 

Sir  Roger  shook  his  head.  "  No ;  why  should  I 
be?  Man  never  did  me  justice,  but  I  think  God  will ; 
Man  never  showed  me  mercy,  but  I  hope  God  will ; 


SIR   ROGER.  361 

and,  at  any  rate,  I  shall  cease  to  be  measured  by  my 
wretched  little  body.  There  is  nothing  like  the  bit- 
terness of  life  for  taking  the  bitterness  out  of  death." 

"  I  wonder  if  all  the  wrongness  and  crookedness 
will  be  made  straight  at  last." 

"  I  don't  know,  but  I  fancy  so.  What  strikes 
me  most  now  is  how  few  things  really  mattered.  I 
cannot  imagine  why  I  minded  them  so  much ;  it  was 
absurd !  I  have  not  Cartwright's  happy  knack  of 
rinding  solutions  to  all  life's  problems,  as  if  they  were 
a  set  of  hooks  and  eyes,"  Sir  Roger  continued,  with 
his  whimsical  smile,  "  but  I  feel  that  everything  will 
probably  come  right  somehow,  if  we  will  only  wait, 
and  not  be  in  such  a  hurry  to  look  at  the  answers. 
There  is  plenty  of  time  between  now  and  the  other 
end  of  eternity,  if  we  could  only  realize  it ;  so  we 
need  not  be  so  terribly  upset,  even  if  the  answers  are 
not  published  in  the  current  number." 

There  was  a  long  silence,  while  the  room  grew 
darker  and  darker.  Out  of  doors  the  trees  loomed 
big  through  the  twilight,  like  dusky  giants  waving 
their  long  arms  in  farewell ;  and  the  river  gleamed 
silvery  white  in  the  fading  daylight,  as  if  it  were  a 
stream  of  living  water  which  no  darkness  could  ever 
touch.  Even  though  the  night  was  coming,  there 
was  the  breath  of  spring  in  the  air ;  and  the  sunset 
had  left  behind  it  a  rosy  glow  which  promised  a 
brighter  sunrise.  Above  the  tops  of  the  black  fir- 
trees  the  stars  fluttered  in  the  pale  green  sky,  like  a 
flock  of  homing  doves  on  their  way  to  the  golden 
land  beyond  the  sunset.  It  was  one  of  those  even- 
ings which  seems  more  like  the  preparation  for 
to-morrow  than  the  conclusion  of  to-day,  and  for  a 
to-morrow  which  shall  be  much  more  abundant  than 
to-day  could  ever  have  been. 
24 


362  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

Suddenly  the  darkness  and  the  silence  grew  op- 
pressive, and  Elfrida  woke  up  from  her  day-dreams 
with  a  shiver. 

"  How  dark  it  is !  "  she  exclaimed,  rising  from 
her  chair  and  going  towards  the  bell.  "  I  will  ring 
for  a  light." 

But  there  was  no  need  to  ring  for  a  light,  as  far 
as  Sir  Roger  was  concerned :  to  him  the  light  had 
already  come. 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

JACK'S  RETURN. 

"  You  had  no  thought  of  being  cruel — 

To  you,  I  know,  my  love  was  dear; 
But  would  you  keep  a  precious  jewel 

Un watched  while  thieves  were  prowling  near? 
Or  would  you  leave  a  golden  lily 

To  grow  unguarded  on  the  lea  ? 
If  love  be  priceless,  it  was  silly 

To  make  so  very  sure  of  me." 

IN  spite  of  the  advantages  which  accrued  to  him 
thereby,  Jack  Le  Mesurier  was  sincerely  grieved  to 
hear  that  he  had  lost  two  such  true  friends  as  Sir 
Roger  and  Miss  Camilla.  But,  fortunately  for  us 
poor  mortals,  there  are  only  a  few  people  in  the  life 
of  each  of  us  whose  going-away  leaves  a  blank  which 
can  never  be  filled  up  again — otherwise  our  lives 
would  not  be  worth  the  living ;  and  neither  his  great- 
aunt  nor  his  uncle  had  assumed  this  important  posi- 
tion in  the  life  of  Jack  Le  Mesurier.  So,  though  he 
mourned  sincerely,  he  was  speedily  comforted. 

There  was,  however,  one  person  who  had  the 
power  to  create  by  her  absence  such  a  vacuum  in 
Jack's  existence  as  could  not  be  filled  by  anything  or 
anybody  else  in  the  whole  world ;  and  this  person 
had,  through  her  own  folly  and  Jack's,  created  this 

363 


364  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

vacuum ;  consequently  Jack's  life  for  the  last  year  or 
so  had  been  very  miserable  indeed.  He  had  not 
even  tried  to  forget  Elfrida ;  men  never  try  to  do 
what  they  know  to  be  impossible,  and  Jack  was  per- 
fectly aware  that  Miss  Harland  had  written  her  name 
in  indelible  ink  on  his  heart.  He  had  tried  to  con- 
vince himself  that  she  was  not  worthy  of  his  love, 
and  that  it  was  folly  to  fret  after  so  deceitful  a  wom- 
an ;  but  convincing  ourselves  that  we  ought  not,  as 
a  race,  to  be  dentally  inferior  to  our  forefathers,  is 
a  poor  cure  for  the  toothache.  And  after  a  time 
Jack  left  off  endeavouring  to  get  on  without  Elfrida, 
and  began  instead  to  devise  plans  as  to  how  he  could 
get  on  with  her  instead.  Though  his  affection  did 
not  cool,  his  anger  did ;  and  he  yearned  for  some 
means  whereby  things  might  be  put  straight  again 
between  himself  and  her. 

Of  course  he  did  not  let  the  fire  of  his  anger  die 
out  without  some  praiseworthy  efforts  on  his  part  to 
stir  it  and  poke  it  and  keep  it  alive.  What  self- 
respecting  man  would  ?  But  if  Love  and  Pride  are  at 
war  with  each  other,  Memory  has  a  trick  of  taking 
sides  with  the  former,  and  recalling  attractive  little 
traits  and  touching  little  incidents  which  have  noth- 
ing to  do  with  the  matter  in  hand,  and  which  would 
be  much  better  forgotten  altogether.  But  when 
Memory  holds  a  brief  for  Love,  he  knows  better 
than  to  let  such  things  slip ;  and  he  takes  us  un- 
awares, when  we  have  forgotten  for  the  moment  how 
angry  we  are  and  how  angry  we  ought  to  be,  and 
knocks  us  down  with  the  bitter-sweet  fragrance  of 
what  has  been  once  but  can  never  be  again  until  we 
put  our  selfish  dignity  out  of  court  altogether.  And 
if  Pride  holds  his  own  after  that,  then  Love  was  not 
Love  at  all,  but  merely  Vanity  dressed  up  in  Love's 


JACK'S  RETURN.  365 

garments — an  incognito  under  which  Vanity  is  very 
fond  of  travelling,  and  which  deceives  many  who 
have  never  seen  Love  himself  face  to  face.  But  those 
who  have  once  met  Love,  and  looked  into  his  eyes, 
know  that  he  is  stronger  even  than  Death,  and  there- 
fore ten  thousand  times  stronger  than  Pride ;  since 
these  are  at  best  but  mortal,  whilst  Love  has  already 
put  on  immortality.  And  they  also  know  that  Van- 
ity dressed  up  in  Love's  garments  is  about  as  much 
like  Love  himself  as  a  farthing  rushlight  is  like  the 
morning  star. 

Jack  Le  Mesurier  knew  what  he  knew,  and  knew 
also  what  he  did  not  know — two  branches  of  knowl- 
edge rarely  mastered  by  cleverer  men ;  and  he  fully 
understood  that  it  was  as  impossible  to  him  to  live 
without  Elfrida  as  it  was  to  understand  her,  and  that 
therefore  to  attempt  either  of  these  impossibilities 
was  an  act  of  folly.  He  arrived  at  this  state  of  mind 
when  he  had  been  nursing  his  anger  out  in  India  for 
a  little  over  a  year,  and  it  had  finally  died  in  spite 
of  all  his  care ;  and  when  his  accession  to  rank  and 
fortune  came  soon  afterwards,  he  felt  that  the  time 
had  arrived  for  him  return  to  Elfrida  and  gra- 
ciously pardon  her.  That  she  would  no  longer  be 
anxious  to  be  pardoned  was  a  contingency  that  never 
presented  itself  to  his  imagination.  If  we  find  a 
particular  person  necessary  to  our  happiness,  it  is 
difficult,  even  to  the  most  complex  among  us,  to 
believe  that  we  do  not  form  an  equally  important  in- 
gredient in  that  person's  scheme  of  existence;  and 
Jack  Le  Mesurier  was  by  no  means  complex. 

At  first  he  decidedly  enjoyed  being  made  much 
of  and  Sir  Johnned  ;  but  he  grew  accustomed  to  it 
with  that  fatal  rapidity  wherewith  human  nature  gets 
accustomed  to  anything  in  the  shape  of  glory  and 


366  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

honour.  It  is  only  unhappiness  that  seems  strange 
to  us  for  any  length  of  time ;  three  weeks  is  the  ut- 
most limit  for  nice  things  to  appear  as  novelties ; 
which  proves  that  happiness  is  in  reality  our  normal 
state,  and  that  we  were  originally  designed  for  crowns 
and  not  for  crosses. 

In  the  middle  of  the  transformation  scene  when 
spring  was  turning  into  summer,  the  new  baronet 
arrived  'at  Grey  stone.  It  was  with  a  glow  of  in- 
tense pleasure  that  Jack  realized  he  was  reigning 
where  his  fathers  had  reigned ;  and  he  experienced 
an  equal,  if  not  a  greater,  joy  in  the  consciousness 
that  he  was  about  to  extend  his  sceptre  to,  and  share 
his  throne  with,  the  woman  whom  he  delighted  to 
honour.  Jack  was  extremely  primitive  and  exces- 
sively English — two  most  excellent  things  in  man. 

But  the  woman  whom  he  delighted  to  honour 
was,  on  the  contrary,  extremely  subtle;  and  she  had 
read  between  the  lines  of  Jack's  recent  letters  to  his 
uncle  the  whole  story  of  the  last  illness  and  death  of 
that  fierce  anger  of  his  against  her.  She  was  as  con- 
scious of  Jack's  desire  to  forgive  her  as  she  was  of 
her  own  indifference  to  this  tardy  forgiveness ;  and 
though  she  thought  she  was  no  longer  sufficiently 
interested  in  him  to  want  to  marry  him,  she  knew 
she  was  still  sufficiently  interested  to  want  him  to 
want  to  marry  her. 

Therefore  she  arranged  to  be  away  from  home 
when  Jack  arrived  at  Greystone  in  all  the  panoply  of 
his  fresh  honour  and  glory. 

The  disappointment  of  the  new  baronet  on  calling 
at  the  Dower  House  and  finding  it  quite  empty  quite 
came  up  to  Miss  Harland's  expectations.  He  felt 
that  sudden  chill  which  most  of  us  have  experienced 
at  some  horrid  time  or  other  when  the  event  we  have 


JACK'S  RETURN.  367 

eagerly  looked  forward  to  turns  out  to  be  an  utter 
failure.  Disappointment  is  one  of  the  nastiest  things 
in  life,  because  it  always  comes  on  the  top  of  pleasur- 
able anticipations ;  just  as  a  chill  that  we  catch  when 
we  are  warm  does  us  ten  times  more  harm  than  a 
long  continuance  in  a  cold  atmosphere.  It  is  sudden 
falls  of  temperature  that  chill  our  bodies  and  our 
souls  to  death. 

Jack  had  looked  forward  more  than  he  was  con- 
scious of  to  seeing  Elfrida.  He  had  frequently  re- 
hearsed his  return  to  Greystone  in  his  own  mind; 
and  the  rehearsal  was  always  animated  by  the  expec- 
tation of  Miss  Harland  as  audience.  Consequently 
when  the  actual  play  was  performed,  and  there  was 
no  Miss  Harland  to  witness  it,  it  fell  very  flat  indeed 
— at  any  rate  to  the  principal  performer. 

Elfrida  would  have  been  delighted  had  she  known 
how  her  absence  took  the  gilt  off  the  gingerbread 
of  Jack's  arrival.  She  imagined  that  she  was  indiffer- 
ent to  him ;  but  here  she  was  mistaken.  A  wom- 
an is  really  never  indifferent  to  a  man  as  long  as  she 
derives  pleasure  from  his  pain ;  it  is  when  she  is 
sincerely  sorry  to  have  hurt  his  feelings,  that  her  in- 
difference is  an  indisputable  fact.  Yet  men  have  a 
weird  and  grotesque  way  of  reasoning  that  if  a  wom- 
an really  cares  for  them  she  will  not  say  nasty  things ; 
while  all  the  time  it  is  because  she  does  care  for  them, 
that  the  nasty  things  are  said.  A  man  positively 
plumes  himself  when  the  girl  who  has  said  nasty 
things  to  him  begins  to  say  nice  ones ;  yet,  if  he  were 
wise,  he  would  discover  the  other  man  to  whom  she 
has  begun  to  say  the  nasty  things,  and  he  would  deal 
with  that  man  as  seemed  best  to  him.  Considering 
that  Woman  has  walked  this  earth  for  some  six  thou- 
sand years  at  least,  and  Man  for  some  years  longer,  it 


368  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

is  strange  that  he  has  not  picked  up  a  few  little  things 
like  this.  But  education  is  a  slow  process. 

Finding  Greystone  so  particularly  uninteresting, 
Jack  repaired  to  Silverhampton,  and  stayed  for  a  few 
days  at  the  Deanery,  settling  his  great-aunt's  affairs. 
And  while  he  was  there  he  walked  by  himself  through 
the  lanes  where  he  had  walked  with  Elfrida  that 
happy  summer,  two  years  ago,  when  he  believed  her 
to  be  the  beautiful  beggar-maid  to  whom  he  was  pre- 
pared to  play  King  Cophetua.  After  all,  there  was 
something  to  be  said  for  Jack ;  it  is  irritating  to  a 
man  to  study  the  part  of  Cophetua  and  be  ready  to 
perform  it  to  the  letter,  and  then  to  find  that  the 
play  has  been  changed,  and  the  part  of  Bassanio  al- 
lotted to  him  instead. 

But  by  this  time  Jack  had  forgotten  to  be  angry 
— had  forgotten  everything  indeed  save  the  fact  that 
he  could  not  live  any  longer  in  a  world  depopulated 
of  Elfrida  Harland ;  and  the  lanes  where  he  and  she 
had  walked  together  became  a  veritable  fairyland  in 
Jack's  eyes,  wherein  trespassers  ought  to  have  been 
prosecuted.  And  they  looked  like  fairyland  just 
then,  even  to  eyes  less  enlightened  than  Jack's ;  for 
the  bluebells  were  out,  and  the  woods  were  paved  as 
with  a  sapphire-stone;  and  the  hedges  on  either 
side  of  the  roads  were  white  with  may-blossom,  and 
looked  like  wave-built,  foam-crowned  walls,  guard- 
ing— as  of  old — a  heaven-made  pathway  from  win- 
ter's house  of  bondage  into  summer's  promised  land. 

Jack  walked  in  all  the  places  where  he  had  walked 
with  Elfrida — or,  rather,  with  Ethel,  for  she  had 
been  Ethel  to  him  then — and  he  tried  to  recall  exact- 
ly what  she  had  said  and  how  she  had  looked  at  each 
particular  spot.  He  remembered  how  she  had  said 
that  the  blue  hills  to  be  seen  from  King's  Square 


JACK'S   RETURN.  369 

looked  like  the  Delectable  Mountains ;  and  how  in- 
terested she  had  been  in  the  monument  at  Tetleigh 
of  the  woman  who  sewed  on  Sunday ;  and  how  she 
had  laughed  at  him,  and  told  him  he  was  growing 
old,  because  once  he  had  complained  of  the  steepness 
of  the  road  up  the  Holloway ;  and,  in  short,  he  re- 
called all  the  dear,  foolish,  little  things  out  of  which 
the  history  of  a  man's  heart  is  made,  and  which  are 
really  so  much  more  important  than  the  things  which 
the  newspapers  consider  so — such  as  wars  and  bye- 
elections  and  the  price  of  wheat. 

For  the  first  time  he  began  to  look  at  things 
through  Elfrida's  eyes;  and  there  is  nothing  in  the 
world  that  teaches  us  so  much  as  looking  at  life  from 
another  person's  point  of  view.  One  glimpse  after 
this  fashion  is  more  instructive  than  a  decade  of 
Royal  Academies,  with  an  exhibition  of  the  Old 
Masters  thrown  in.  The  more  different  the  person 
happens  to  be  in  character  and  circumstances  from 
ourselves,  the  more  do  we  learn  from  the  vision. 
But  this  art  is  not  mastered  save  by  men  and  women 
who  have  seen  much  of  life,  and  who  have  felt  even 
more  than  they  have  seen. 

As  Jack  walked  up  the  Old  Hill  at  Tetleigh  he 
thought  upon  Philip  Cartwright's  story;  and  he  felt 
a  new  thrill  of  interest  as  he  passed  by  the  grey 
house  (built  after  the  fashion  of  the  heavenly  constel- 
lations) where  the  rector  of  Greystone  had  spent  his 
boyhood ;  and  then  on  past  the  other  house  at  the 
top  of  the  hill,  where  there  was  so  much  sunshine  that 
the  sun-dial  grew  old  before  its  time  because  it  never 
seemed  to  get  a  day  off  in  which  to  rest  itself.  And 
as  Jack  passed  by  these  places  he  congratulated  him- 
self that  he  was  not  as  Philip  Cartwright  was,  but 
that  he  had  discovered  and  repented  of  his  error  be- 


370 


A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 


fore  it  was  too  late.  Alas  for  him !  "  Too  late  "  is 
an  hour  which  comes  upon  us  unawares,  and  is  often- 
times already  in  the  past,  while  we  are  still  flattering 
ourselves  that  it  forms  part  of  an  avoidable  and  high- 
ly improbable  future. 

As  Jack  Le  Mesurier  sat  alone  in  the  old  Deanery 
at  Silverhampton  he  dreamed  dreams  of  all  that  life 
was  going  to  be  to  him  with  Elfrida  at  his  side.  He 
intended,  of  course,  to  do  great  things :  who  does 
not  so  intend  on  the  sunny  side  of  thirty  ? — and  Jack 
had  still  a  few  weeks  to  spend  on  that  sunny  side ; 
but  he  built  no  castles  in  the  air  whereof  Elfrida  was 
not  the  chatelaine,  and  he  gained  no  imaginary  tri- 
umph which  was  not  destined  to  be  laid  at  Elfrida's 
feet.  He  had  left  the  army  on  coming  into  his  title 
and  estates ;  and  he  meant  to  devote  himself  to  be- 
coming an  ideal  landowner,  reigning  over  ecstatic- 
ally happy  tenants,  with  Elfrida  as  his  queen-consort. 
That  Elfrida  herself  would  have  changed  in  any  way, 
never  once  occurred  to  him.  He  thought  it  possible 
that  she  might  find  it  difficult  to  forgive  him 
for  not  having  earlier  forgiven  her;  but  he  never 
once  imagined  that  his  forgiveness  had  ceased  to  be 
a  matter  of  great  moment  to  her.  And  this,  not  be- 
cause he  was  conceited,  but  because  he  was  himself 
unchangeable.  He  was  amazed  at  Elfrida's  having 
loved  him  in  the  first  instance ;  but  he  would  have 
been  even  more  amazed  to  find  that,  having  once 
loved  him,  she  had  left  off  doing  so.  Which  state 
of  mind  did  not  arise  from  his  high  opinion  of  him- 
self, but  from  his  high  opinion  of  her. 

When  Jack  Le  Mesurier  returned  home  from 
Silverhampton  he  learned  that  Miss  Harland  was 
back  at  the  Dower  House.  So  he  did  not  wait  for 
the  conventional  calling-hour,  but  rushed  over  to  see 


JACK'S   RETURN.  37! 

her  the  first  thing  in  the  morning.  Elfrida  was 
working  in  her  garden,  Mrs.  Seeley  being  busy  in- 
doors ;  and  when  Miss  Harland  perceived  a  fine, 
manly  figure  marching  across  the  park,  she  experi- 
enced a  sensation  of  unholy  joy  that  at  last  her  enemy 
was  about  to  be  delivered  into  her  hands.  No  one 
could  justify  this  unrighteous  attitude  of  mind  on 
the  part  of  Elfrida;  it  was  absolutely  unjustifiable, 
and  was  only  extremely  natural.  Jack  had  hurt  her 
— now  she  meant  to  hurt  Jack :  such  was  Elfrida's 
idea  of  justice,  and  she  intended  to  be  unswervingly 
just  in  her  dealings  with  Sir  John  Le  Mesurier.  The 
sin  of  letting  evil  go  unpunished  was  a  sin  that  could 
never  be  laid  to  Miss  Harland's  charge;  and  the 
curse  of  transgressing  with  -impunity  was  a  curse 
which  was  not  destined  to  light  upon  Jack's  head  as 
long  as  Elfrida  was  at  hand  to  shelter  him  from  it. 
In  order  to  harden  her  heart  still  further  against  the 
culprit,  she  strengthened  herself  with  comparisons 
between  Jack  Le  Mesurier  and  Philip  Cartwright,  all 
to  the  former's  disadvantage ;  and  when  now  and 
then  her  heart — tiresome  thing! — forgot  its  cue,  and 
brought  forward  evidence  in  favour  of  the  accused, 
her  mind  speedily  crushed  it  with  some  weighty  and 
powerful  argument  on  the  other  side. 

"  How  silly  of  Him  to  walk  all  through  that  wet 
grass,  and  get  his  feet  soaked !  "  she  said  to  herself, 
wisely  endeavouring  to  be  irritated  with  Jack  what- 
ever he  did.  "  Philip  Cartwright  would  have  gone 
round  by  the  road.  It  is  so  idiotic  of  men  to  run 
risks  and  trifle  with  their  health  in  that  way." 

Here  her  heart  forgot  itself  for  a  moment.  "  But 
don't  you  think  that  Philip  is  a  bit  fussy  through 
having  been  a  bachelor  too  long?"  it  whispered; 
"  and  don't  you  think  it  is  rather  refreshing  to  meet 


3/2 


A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 


a  man  who  is  too  strong  to  bother  about  such 
things  ?  " 

Elfrida  crushed  the  offending  member  speedily. 
"  I  hate  recklessness ;  it  gives  so  much  trouble  to 
other  people.  And  how  boring  of  Jack  to  come  early 
in  the  morning  just  when  I  am  too  busy  to  attend  to 
him !  Philip  wouldn't  have  done  anything  so  stupid. 
But  Jack  always  was  tactless,  and  always  will  be.  I 
hate  tactless  people." 

"  Perhaps  Philip  was  not  quite  so  tactful  as  he  is 
now  when  he  was  nine-and-twenty  and  in  love  for 
the  first  time,"  suggested  that  interfering  heart  of 
Elfrida's. 

"  The  tactful  man  is  always  tactful,"  argued  El- 
frida's brain,  "  because  tact  is  simply  the  power  to 
understand  another  person's  feelings.  Philip  always 
understands — Jack  never  did ;  and  Philip  would 
have  had  the  sense  to  know  that  a  woman  doesn't 
care  to  be  made  love  to  before  lunch." 

But  Elfrida's  heart  was  in  a  troublesome  mood, 
and  would  not  be  put  to  silence.  "  As  long  as  a 
man  can  understand  what  he  is  feeling,  he  is  not  feel- 
ing very  much ;  and  when  he  is  in  earnest,  he  makes 
love  because  he  wants  to  make  it,  and  not  because 
he  thinks  a  woman  wants  him  to  make  it." 

By  that  time  Jack  had  come  to  the  white 
palings  which  divided  the  garden  of  the  Dower 
House  from  the  park,  and  he  cleared  them  at  a 
bound.  Elfrida  was  conscious  of  a  contemptibly 
feminine  and  elementary  thrill  of  admiration  at  the 
ease  with  which  he  did  so ;  but  she  speedily  subdued 
this  purely  savage  instinct  by  the  reflection  that  it 
was  horribly  boyish  to  jump  over  things  instead  of 
going  through  gates,  and  that  she  hated  boys. 

"  Elfrida,"  said  Jack,  going  up  to  her  with  out- 


JACK'S   RETURN.  373 

stretched  hands  and  all  his  heart  in  his  eyes,  "  I  have 
found  that  I  cannot  live  without  you,  and  I  have 
come  to  ask  you  to  forgive  me  for  being  such  a 
beast." 

Elfrida  was  somewhat  taken  aback  by  Jack's  sim- 
ple straightforwardness  in  going  direct  to  the  point. 
It  irritated  her  by  its  want  of  subtlety.  Like  Miss 
Sarah  Battle  at  whist,  so  Miss  Harland  at  love  was  a 
stickler  for  the  "  rigour  of  the  game."  Still  she  in- 
tended to  play  the  game  through  with  Jack,  however 
little  he  regarded  the  laws  of  it;  and,  what  is  more, 
she  meant  to  beat  him. 

"  It  is  late  in  the  day  to  begin  all  that  over  again," 
she  replied  coldly,  ignoring  his  proffered  hands. 

"  I  know  it  is,  sweetheart,  confoundedly  late. 
But  it  has  got  to  be  begun  all  over  again,  and  to  be 
ended  differently  from  how  it  was  ended  before,  and 
so  the  sooner  we  begin  the  better." 

"  But  I  thought  you  had  decided  never  to  forgive 
me  for  not  having  taken  for  granted — without  re- 
quiring the  slightest  proof — that  you  were  made 
after  an  entirely  different,  and  altogether  superior, 
pattern  from  ninety-nine  men  out  of  every  hun- 
dred." 

"  I  did  decide  that  at  one  time,  more  fool  I !  And 
now  I  have  come  to  tell  you  that  I  perceive  the  folly 
of  that  idiotic  decision." 

Elfrida  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "  I  should  like 
to  adapt  the  Latin  proverb,  and  say  that  he  forgives 
twice  who  forgives  quickly." 

"  But  there  was  no  need  in  this  case  to  forgive 
twice,  you  see ;  so  I  should  rather  say  that  he  who 
forgives  slowly  forgives  once  for  all." 

Now  here  Jack  distinctly  scored ;  and  Elfrida  felt 
accordingly  irritated.  It  is  always  annoying  when 


374  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

people  do  not  play  the  part  for  which  we  have  cast 
them.  Elfrida  decided  that  it  was  her  role  to  be 
clever  and  Jack's  to  be  stupid ;  and  so  she  had  every 
right  to  complain  when  the  latter  was  less  stupid 
than  she  had  expected  him  to  be.  Miss  Harland 
was  gifted  with  that  curse  in  disguise  known  as  a 
vivid  imagination ;  and  it  is  always  dangerous  for  an 
imaginative  woman  to  think  much  of  persons  whom 
she  does  not  see.  Unconsciously  she  magnifies 
them  in  her  own  mind — either  for  weal  or  for  woe, 
as  the  case  may  be — until  they  become  (to  her)  gro- 
tesque caricatures  of  themselves.  If  she  frequently 
meets  them  in  the  flesh,  their  bodily  presence  brings 
her  soaring  imagination  to  earth  again,  and  rights 
her  victims  in  her  eyes ;  but  if  she  does  not  see  them 
face  to  face  for  some  time,  her  imagination  paints 
their  portraits  unchecked,  and  these  portraits  are 
very  tinlifelike  indeed. 

Elfrida  had  not  seen  Jack  for  over  a  year,  so  his 
image  was  considerably  distorted  in  her  mind.  She 
had  decided  that  he  was  stupid  and  obstinate — which, 
perhaps,  was  not  altogether  an  unfounded  accusation 
on  her  part ;  but  these  attributes  of  Jack's  had  as- 
sumed such  exaggerated  proportions  in  her  mind, 
that  the  Jack  of  Elfrida's  imagination  had  become  an 
inhuman  monster,  combining  the  pitilessness  of  a 
Juggernaut  with  the  perceptions  of  a  mole. 

In  the  same  way  the  troublesome  imagination  of 
Miss  Harland  had  played  tricks  with  the  counterfeit 
presentment  of  the  rector  of  Greystone;  for  Philip 
had  gone  away  from  home  just  after  Sir  Roger's 
funeral,  and  had  not  yet  returned.  In  his  absence 
she  had  magnified  his  virtues  to  such  an  extent  that 
he  now  appeared  to  her  as  a  sort  of  modern  King 
Arthur,  sanctified  by  Holy  Orders,  and  gifted  with 


JACK'S   RETURN.  375 

an  intelligence  which  would  have  put  Lord  Bacon's 
to  shame. 

"  Forgiveness  which  comes  too  late  is  no  good 
to  anybody,"  remarked  Elfrida  crossly ;  "  breakfast, 
which  is  not  served  until  after  luncheon,  ceases  to  be 
breakfast,  and  is  only  an  indigestible  apology  for 
afternoon  tea." 

Jack's  boyish  face  grew  pale  and  anxious. 
"  Good  heavens,  Elfrida !  do  you  mean  to  say  that 
you  are  not  going  to  forgive  me  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all ;  I  am  only  pointing  out  that  I  am  no 
longer  anxious  for  you  to  forgive  me." 

"  Elfrida,  don't  be  hard  on  me.  I  know  I  be- 
haved like  a  brute  to  you,  but  I  am  most  awfully 
sorry  for  it ;  and  I  would  give  all  that  I  possess  to 
undo  it,  if  only  I  could." 

Elfrida's  lip  curled.  "  You  were  so  kind  to  me 
when  I  begged  for  your  pardon  some  time  ago,  that 
the  mere  memory  of  your  goodness  stimulates  me 
with  a  desire  to  emulate  it."  N 

"  I  say,  you  are  rather  rough  on  a  fellow,  you 
know.  But  if  you'd  any  idea  how  frightfully  sorry 
I've  been,  and  how  hideous  my  life  has  been  without 
you,  I'm  sure  you'd  be  nice  to  me  again  and  let  by- 
gones be  bygones." 

"  Don't  you  know  that  if  you  will  not  do  what 
people  ask  you  when  they  ask  you,  it  is  of  no  use 
doing  it  after  they  have  forgotten  all  about  the  mat- 
ter, and  have  ceased  to  care  whether  you  do  it  or 
not?"  Elfrida  never  could  resist  the  folly  of  being 
wise. 

"  I  know  that  if  I  once  care  about  a  thing,  I  care 
about  it  always ;  and  I  thought  you'd  be  the  same  as 
me,"  replied  Jack,  with  more  sincerity  than  grammar. 

"  That  is  so  like  a  man !     As  long  as  it  suited  you 


376  A   DOUBLE    THREAD. 

to  be  angry  you  kept  your  rage  up  to  boiling  point, 
and  didn't  care  how  much  you  hurt  me  or  how  much 
I  cared ;  and  now  that  your  fury  has  gradually  cooled 
down,  you  graciously  hold  out  the  sceptre,  and  ex- 
pect me  to  kiss  the  end  of  it.  And  I  sha'n't." 
Elfrida  began  to  have  an  uncomfortable  conscious- 
ness that  Jack  was  decidedly  better-looking  than 
when  she  saw  him  last,  and  more  manly,  and  alto- 
gether more  attractive ;  therefore  she  began  to  lose 
her  temper  with  him — a  thing  she  had  definitely 
decided  beforehand  not  to  do.  It  really  was  not  fair 
of  him  to  take  advantage  of  her  in  this  way,  she  felt ; 
and  she  resented  his  increased  charm  accordingly. 

"  Look  here,  dear,"  said  Jack  in  a  wheedling  tone, 
"  you  are  not  going  to  spoil  both  our  lives  just  be- 
cause I  once  made  an  ass  of  myself." 

Elfrida  drew  her  slim  figure  up  to  its  full  height. 
"  I  shall  not  spoil  my  own  life,  you  may  rest  assured ; 
and  as  for  the  spoiling  of  yours,  I  fancy  you  did  it 
yourself — that  is  to  say,  if  there  is  any  spoiling  in 
the  question,  which  I  very  much  doubt." 

"  You  don't  mean  what  you  say,  dear ;  you  know 
you  don't." 

"  Excuse  me,  I  am  the  best  judge  of  that." 

"  Well,  then,  can  you  look  me  in  the  face  and  say 
that  all  this  long  time  without  me  has  been  a  happy 
time  to  you  ?  You  know  you  can't ;  and  it  has  been 
a  regular  Inferno  to  me." 

"  Yes,  I  can." 

"  I  don't  believe  it.  You  have  tried  to  amuse 
yourself  with  books  and  flirtations,  and  a  lot  of 
trumped-up  rot  of  that  kind ;  but  at  the  bottom  of 
your  heart  you  have  missed  me  all  the  time." 

Elfrida  was  very  angry.  Jack  had  not  only  dis- 
covered the  truth — he  had  actually  formulated  it. 


JACK'S   RETURN.  377 

He  really  was  extremely  stupid,  she  said  to  herself. 
Now  that  she  saw  the  real  Jack  again,  and  heard  his 
voice,  the  old  love  for  him  began  to  stir  in  her  heart, 
and  this  also  annoyed  her.  That  is  the  worst  of  love, 
and  malaria,  and  influenza,  and  similar  feverish  com- 
plaints ;  it  is  years  before  one  has  recovered  beyond 
the  possibility  of  a  relapse.  So  she  recalled  Philip 
Cartwright's  many  excellencies,  and  reminded  herself 
how  superior  he  was  to  Jack,  counter-irritation 
being  the  only  possible  cure  for  the  complaint  called 
love. 

"  You  flatter  yourself,"  she  said  scornfully.  "  I 
am  afraid  that  your  power  of  making  yourself  indis- 
pensable is  not  quite  so  tremendous  as  you  imagine." 

"  Look  here,  Elfrida,  I  don't  want  to  bother  you, 
or  to  make  you  more  angry  with  me  than  you  are 
already." 

"  That  would  be  impossible,"  interpolated  the 
girl,  "  even  to  a  man  of  your  varied  attainments." 

Jack  took  no  notice  of  the  interruption,  but  con- 
tinued :  "  I  know  I  was  a  brute  to  you  last  year,  and 
I  am  awfully  sorry  for  it ;  but,  all  the  same,  I  had 
some  excuse  for  losing  my  temper,  as  you  really  had 
played  me  rather  a  nasty  trick,  you  know,  and  when 
I  went  away  I  was  in  a  royal  rage.  But  as  I  cooled 
down,  and  got  into  my  right  mind  again,  I  found  that 
nothing  had  shaken — and  nothing  ever  could  shake 
— my  love  for  you,  and  that  life  without  you  was  sim- 
ply too  atrocious  to  be  endured.  So  I  have  come 
back  to  ask  you  to  forgive  me,  for  the  very  good 
reason  that  I  cannot  live  without  you.  I  say,  Ethel," 
he  went  on,  unconsciously  using  the  old  name, 
"  you've  no  idea  how  frightfully  fond  of  you  I  am,  or 
else  you'd  never  play  with  me  in  this  way." 

"  I  am  not  playing  with  you ;  I  am  merely  stating 
25 


378  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

the  truth.  The  fact  that  a  truth  happens  to  be  un- 
palatable to  you  does  not  therefore  transform  it  into 
a  lie." 

Klfrida  was  determined  to  have  her  revenge  for 
all  the  pain  that  Jack  had  made  her  suffer;  and  the 
knowledge  that  she  did  not  hate  him  as  much  as  she 
assured  herself  she  did,  only  served  to  add  fuel  to  the 
fire  of  her  anger. 

Suddenly  an  idea  struck  Jack,  which  took  all  the 
gold  out  of  the  summer  sunshine,  and  transformed 
the  May  morning  into  a  November  day.  "  Is  there 
any  one  else  ?  "  he  asked  in  a  harsh,  strained  voice ; 
"  if  there  is,  of  course  I  am  bound  as  a  gentleman 
to  let  you  alone;  but  if  there  isn't,  I  shall  go  on 
bothering  you  till  you  are  obliged  to  come  back  to 
me.  Tell  me  the  truth,  Elfrida,  is  there  any  one 
else?" 

The  temptation  was  too  great.  Here  was  a 
weapon  put  into  Elfrida's  hands  whereby  she  could 
punish  Jack  to  the  uttermost  for  all  the  suffering  that 
he  had  inflicted  on  her.  Being  a  woman — and, 
moreover,  a  woman  out  of  temper — and,  still  further, 
a  woman  in  love — she  succumbed. 

"  Yes,  there  is,"  she  said  shortly ;  and  she  added 
to  herself  that  it  was  perfectly  true,  because  she  knew 
all  the  while  that  it  was  not. 

Jack  grew  so  white  that  she  was  frightened  at 
what  she  had  done.  But  she  was  not  going  to  undo 
it.  Until  she  had  seen  Jack  again  face  to  face,  she 
had  really  been  quite  sure  that  she  had  transferred 
her  affections  from  him  to  Philip  Cartwright ;  and 
she  felt  that  it  would  be  ridiculous  and  undignified  to 
change  back  again,  just  because  the  real  Jack  was  so 
much  more  attractive  than  the  Jack  of  her  imagina- 
tion. Which,  of  course,  it  would  have  been,  and  was  ; 


JACK'S   RETURN.  379 

but  it  is  one  of  Cupid's  favourite  tricks  to  make  his 
victims  do  things  which  are  ridiculous  and  undig- 
nified, and  it  is  no  use  fighting  against  the  mischiev- 
ous little  god.  The  best  plan  is  to  stand  alongside 
of  him,  and  to  laugh  with  him  at  the  foolish  things 
'which  he  makes  us  do;  that  puts  him — and  us— in 
a  good  humour. 

"  I  suppose  I  have  no  right  to  complain,"  said 
Jack,  after  a  terrible  pause. 

"  Certainly  not,"  replied  Elfrida,  letting  herself 
go,  because  she  was  so  frightened  at  Jack's  set  white 
face ;  "  it  is  all  your  own  doing,  and  you  have  no  one 
but  yourself  to  blame.  I  loved  you,  and  you  threw 
my  love  back  in  my  face  because  I  had  done  some- 
thing which  offended  against  the  pitiless  Moloch 
which  you  call  your  pride.  I  hope  that  now  your 
pride,  as  you  call  it,  is  satisfied ;  at  any  rate  my  love 
has  been  crushed  to  death  as  its  victim,  and  it  is  not 
my  fault  if  the  love  which  you  thus  killed  can- 
not now  come  to  life  again,  to  play  with  you  and 
amuse  you.  Then  you  went  back  to  India  and  left 
me  to  my  own  devices ;  and  you  didn't  care  whether 
my  heart  was  broken  or  not.  As  long  as  your  own 
pride  was  appeased,  everything  else  might  go  as  far 
as  you  were  concerned,  and  the  more  I  was  humili- 
ated the  better  you  were  pleased." 

Elfrida  paused  to  take  breath,  but  Jack  did  not 
speak ;  he  only  stood  still  in  an  agony  of  despair,  and 
his  face  looked  grey  and  old  in  the  morning  sun- 
shine. So  she  continued :  "  Then  was  it  to  be  won- 
dered at  that,  if  another  man  came  by  who  was  hum- 
ble where  you  had  been  proud  and  who  was  kind 
where  you  had  been  cruel,  I  was  glad  to  see  him? 
Are  you  surprised  that  the  place  in  my  life,  which 
you  had  wilfully  left  empty,  was  refilled — and  refilled 


380  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

by  a  man  who  understood  me  far  better  than  you 
had  ever  done  ?  " 

Which  last  statement  was  quite  true ;  but  Elfrida 
forgot  that  comprehension  and  affection  are  not  ne- 
cessarily synonymous — are,  in  fact,  in  many  cases 
diametrically  opposed.  The  dramatic  instinct,  so 
strong  in  her,  was  now  fully  aroused ;  and  for  the 
moment  she  was  again  carried  away  by  the  belief 
that  she  loved  Philip  and  hated  Jack. 

At  last  Jack  spoke,  and  his  voice  trembled  like 
the  voice  of  an  old  man :  "  Then  there  is  no  more  to 
be  said.  I  have  lost  the  best  thing  in  life  through 
my  own  arrant  folly ;  and  now  there  is  nothing  left 
for  me  to  do  but  to  take  my  punishment  like  a  man. 
I  hope  that  you  will  be  happy,  Elfrida,  and  I  trust 
that  the  man  you  have  chosen  in  my  place  will  prove 
himself  more  worthy  of  you  than  I  have  been." 

And  thereupon  he  once  more  leaped  over  the 
white  palings,  and  turned  his  eyes  steadfastly  towards 
Greystone,  so  that  Elfrida  might  not  see  the  tears  in 
them. 

It  was  not  difficult  to  Jack  to  guess  who  was  his 
rival  in  Elfrida's  affections.  Little  birds  had  whis- 
pered to  him  stories  concerning  the  friendship  exist- 
ing between  the  rector  and  Miss  Harland ;  and  when 
a  man  is  in  love  with  a  woman,  he  finds  it  hard  to 
believe  that  other  men  are  merely  friendly  towards 
her.  So  he  made  up  his  mind  that  Elfrida  would 
reign  at  the  rectory,  and  that  his  own  house  would 
evermore  be  left  unto  him  desolate. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

ROBBEN    ISLAND. 

"  Yet  I  envy  you,  spite  of  your  bitter  pain  ; 

Because,  through  earth's  hubbub  that  grates  and  jars, 
You  are  listening  still  to  the  far-off  strain 
That  is  sung  on  high  by  the  morning  stars." 

"  I  AM  positively  delirious  with  impotent  rage," 
exclaimed  Lady  Silverhampton,  sinking  into  an  easy- 
chair  in  front  of  Elfrida's  bedroom  fire. 

"  Why,  what's  up  ?  "  asked  Miss  Harland,  who 
was  spending  Whitsuntide  at  Grasslands. 

"A  new  gown  has  come  home  that  doesn't  fit; 
and  it  is  Saturday  night,  so  I  can't  get  my  knife  into 
my  dressmaker  till  next  week — and  not  till  the  mid- 
dle of  next  week,  seeing  that  this  is  that  bothering 
old  Whitsuntide.  Mark  my  words,  Elfrida,  there  is 
no  rage  so  bitter  as  a  clothes-rage ;  and  there  is  no 
time  so  terrible  for  a  clothes-rage  as  Saturday  night. 
Sunday  forms  such  an  impassable  gulf  between  you 
and  the  satisfying  of  your  vengeance.  Do  you 
know,  I've  taken  such  a  dislike  to  Sunday  as  a  day? 
If  everything  goes  well,  it  is  depressing  somehow; 
and  if  your  clothes  don't  fit,  it  is  a  long-drawn-out 
torture.  I  don't  know  why  one  thinks  so  much 
more  about  one's  clothes  on  Sunday  than  on  any 
other  day ;  I  suppose  because  there's  nothing  else  to 
think  about." 

381 


382  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  What  is  wrong  with  your  new  gown  ?  "  Elfrida 
made  inquiry,  when  her  hostess  paused  for  an  instant 
to  take  breath. 

"  Oh,  my  dear,  what  isn't  wrong  with  it  ?  It  is 
so  high  in  the  neck  that  I  have  to  hold  my  head  like 
a  bird  that  is  drinking,  and  it  is  so  tight  round  the 
neck  that  it  turns  me  black  in  the  face;  it  is  so  nar- 
row across  the  chest  that  I  am  like  a  trussed  fowl 
in  it,  and  it  is  so  long  in  the  skirt  that  I  tumble  on 
my  nose  every  step  I  take.  The  mere  thought  of  it 
excites  my  worst  passions,  as  well  it  may !  As  I  re- 
marked before,  there  is  no  rage  like  a  clothes-rage ; 
there  was  no  such  thing  as  murder  in  the  world  until 
after  clothes  had  been  invented." 

"  There  are  things  in  life  more  aggravating  than 
clothes,"  sighed  Elfrida  ;  "  namely,  men." 

"  Good  gracious,  child,  what  nonsense !  Men  are 
not  half  so  trying  to  the  temper  as  clothes;  and  I 
must  know  better  than  you  do  because  I  am  married, 
and  married  to  Silverhampton,  who  is  the  most  try- 
ing man  I  ever  met." 

"  But,  my  dear  Evelyn,  when  all  is  said  and  done, 
clothes  can  be  sent  back  to  be  altered,  and  men  can't 
— at  any  rate,  not  those  who  are  old  enough  to  be 
worth  altering.  You  can  do  pretty  much  what  you 
like  with  a  gown  after  your  first  frenzy  of  fury 
against  it  is  expended ;  but  unfortunately  you  can- 
not let  out  a  tuck  in  your  husband's  temper  if  it  is 
too  short,  or  insert  a  gusset  into  his  views  if  they 
are  too  narrow,  or  put  a  false  hem  on  to  his  brain 
if  it  is  not  quite  large  enough." 

Lady  Silverhampton,  however,  was  not  to  be 
convinced. 

"  Anyhow,  if  your  husband  is  horrid,  people  think 
how  charming  you  are  by  contrast,"  she  argued; 


ROBBEN    ISLAND.  383 

"  while  if  your  gown  is  horrid,  people  invariably 
think  how  old  and  ugly  you  are  getting,  and  don't 
see  that  it  is  all  the  fault  of  your  dressmaker.  Talk- 
ing of  dressmakers  reminds  me  that  mine  is  an  awful 
fool  to  have  made  such  a  hash  of  that  new  gown  of 
mine ;  and  talking  of  fools  reminds  me  that  you  are 
the  greatest  I  have  ever  met.  I  don't  want  to  hurt 
your  feelings,  my  dear ;  but  you  really  are." 

"  It  is  something  to  excel  in  any  line ;  and  you 
have  met  a  great  many  fools  in  your  time,  and  by  no 
means  inconsiderable  ones." 

"  But  never  your  equal,  Elfrida,  never.  You 
take  an  easy  first  in  that  school." 

Now  Elfrida,  possessing  the  dramatic  instinct, 
would  rather  be  scolded  than  not  talked  about  at  all. 
The  dramatic  instinct  is  the  extreme  opposite  of  self- 
consciousness,  which  would  rather  not  be  talked 
about  at  all  than  even  praised.  So  she  rather  enjoyed 
her  ladyship's  strictures  than  otherwise. 

"  You  think  that  I  was  a  fool  to  refuse  Jack  Le 
Mesurier,"  she  said,  taking  out  her  hairpins  and  let- 
ting her  hair  fall  in  a  golden  shower  about  her  shoul- 
ders ;  "  still,  I  had  my  reasons,"  she  continued  con- 
fidentially, a  woman's  hair  and  a  woman's  tongue 
generally  being  unloosed  simultaneously.  Men  con- 
fide in  each  other  less  than  women  do  because  they 
have  no  back  hair  to  let  down  beside  one  another's 
firesides. 

"  You  mean  that  good-looking  parson,  I  suppose. 
Don't  mince  matters  and  beat  about  the  bush  with 
me,  my  dear  Elfrida;  it  is  not  my  custom  to  call 
spades  by  courtesy  titles,  you  know,  and  I've  seen 
for  a  long  time  that  you've  been  gone  on  that  Cart- 
wright  man.  He  is  very  handsome,  I  admit,  and  he 
has  got  just  the  right  sort  of  nose  for  a  clergyman — 


384  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

so  arched  and  Gothic,  don't  you  know?  There  are 
Sunday  noses  and  week-day  noses,  and  I  cannot  bear 
to  see  a  clergyman  with  a  week-day  nose ;  can  you  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  call  week-day  noses?  " 

"  Oh,  cheerful  turn-up  noses,  and  Greek-statue 
noses,  and  all  the  secular  sorts.  A  clergyman's  nose 
ought  always  to  be  arched  like  a  cathedral  doorway. 
A  nes  retrousse  suggests  comedy,  and  a  Greek  nose 
suggests  paganism.  I  think  that  parsons  with  secu- 
lar noses  resemble  Georgian  churches,  which  always 
look  to  me  like  theatres  spoiled." 

"  Oh,  Evelyn,  what  an  idea !  " 

"  It  is  quite  true.  I  never  feel  at  all  religious  in 
a  Georgian  church,  it  is  so  drawing-roomy;  just  the 
thing  for  a  wedding,  of  course,  but  not  for  a  real  seri- 
ous service,  don't  you  know?  There  is  nothing 
more  solemnizing  than  an  arch,  whether  it  be  in  the 
aisle  of  a  cathedral  or  on  a  clergyman's  face." 

Elfrida  nodded.  "  I  know  what  you  mean. 
Bow-noses  are  certainly  more  Sunday  noses  than  any 
other  sort.  I  suppose  it  is  because  they  are  Jewish 
and  remind  us  of  Scripture  pictures ;  just  as  camels 
are  Sunday  animals  and  palms  are  Sunday  trees." 

"  That  Cartwright  man  has  really  got  an  ideal 
nose ;  I  can't  tell  you  how  I  admire  it.  It's  the  sort 
of  nose  that  you  see  in  pictures  of  angels  and  martyrs 
and  clerical  people  of  that  sort.  But  all  the  same, 
Elfrida,  you  are  a  fool  for  pinning  your  faith  to  it, 
and  for  thinking  that  he'll  ever  be  as  fond  of  you  as 
Jack  Le  Mesurier  has  been." 

"  You  are  very  rude,"  said  Elfrida,  rather  coldly. 

"  Of  course  I  am  ;  you  are  my  greatest  friend." 

Elfrida  smiled,  but  did  not  speak. 

"  Now  Jack  would  have  been  a  perfect  husband 
for  you,"  Lady  Silverhampton  continued ;  "  because 


ROBBEN    ISLAND. 


385 


he  found  out  how  horrid  you  really  were,  and  still 
went  on  liking  you.  And  he'd  settle  down  con- 
tentedly with  you  at  Greystone,  and  not  bother  about 
things." 

"  I  hate  contented  men.  There  is  only  one  thing 
worse  than  a  discontented  woman,  and  that  is  a  con- 
tented man." 

"  Well,  you'd  soon  be  the  one  if  your  husband 
wasn't  the  other;  I  can  tell  you  that.  And  then 
Jack's  nose  is  quite  as  good  in  its  way  as  Mr.  Cart- 
wright's.  Of  course  it  isn't  clerical ;  but  there  is 
no  reason  why  it  should  be.  I  should  call  it  an  '  un- 
sectarian  '  nose.  I  don't  know  exactly  what  '  unsec- 
tarian  '  means,  but  I  think  it  is  something  rather 
daring  and  wicked  and  attractive." 

"  I  think  Milton's  Satan  was  unsectarian,"  Elfrida 
said. 

"Yes;  and  wasn't  he  a  charming  person?  I 
think  he  is  quite  the  nicest  character  in  '  Paradise 
Lost ' — though  I've  never  read  the  book  through." 

"  You  see,"  said  Elfrida,  slowly  drawing  one  of 
her  golden  locks  through  her  fingers,  "  Jack  Le  Me- 
surier  was  all  very  well  in  his  way,  but  he  was  never 
clever  enough  for  me.  I  can't  bear  stupidity,  and 
Jack  always  was  more  or  less  stupid.  He  says  the 
wrong  thing,  and  is  always  putting  his  foot  in  it. 
He  doesn't  understand  me  in  the  least,  and  he  and 
I  have  not  the  same  interests  ;  so  I  don't  see  how  we 
could  possibly  be  happy  together." 

Masculine  intellect  always  concludes  that  if  a 
woman  abuses  a  man,  she  is  not  in  love  with  him ;  it 
reasons,  further,  that  if  she  proves  she  could  not 
possibly  be  happy  with  that  particular  man,  she  will 
not  be  absolutely  miserable  without  him.  But  femi- 
nine instinct  knows  better. 


386  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  Bosh !  "  said  Lady  Silverhampton,  who  was  by 
no  means  lacking  in  feminine  instinct.  "  It  was  aw- 
fully stupid  of  you  to  play  that  silly  trick  upon  Cap- 
tain Le  Mesurier,  of  pretending  to  be  a  beggar-maid 
or  an  organist  or  something.  Men  are  always  an- 
noyed at  discovering  there  is  anything  that  they  don't 
know ;  and  they  all — even  the  nice  ones — have  a 
rooted  prejudice  against  anything  in  the  shape  of  a 
fib ;  why,  I  can't  imagine,  but  they  have ;  and  we 
have  to  deal  with  them  as  they  are,  and  not  as  we 
should  like  them  to  be.  And  then — after  he  had 
forgiven  that  mad  prank  of  yours,  and  still  wanted 
to  marry  you  (which  really  was  very  sweet  of  him) — 
it  was  simple  idiocy  on  your  part  to  refuse  him.  It 
really  was." 

"  A  woman  owes  a  duty  to  herself,"  continued  El- 
frida ;  "  and  if  she  marries  a  man  who  is  intellectually 
her  inferior,  she  lowers  herself  to  his  level ;  while,  if 
she  marries  a  man  who  is  superior  to  her,  he  soon 
will  train  her  mind  and  educate  her  character  until 
she  attains  the  highest  ideal  that  is  possible  to  her 
nature." 

'  Good  heavens,  Elfrida !  "  Lady  Silverhampton 
groaned ;  "  don't  talk  to  me  as  if  you  were  Queechy 
and  I  were  The  Wide,  Wide  World,  I  beseech  you. 
Besides,  Jack  Le  Mesurier  has  been  devoted  to  you 
now  for  quite  a  long  time — even  while  he  was  angry 
he  was  still  devoted,  you  see,  or  else  he  wouldn't  have 
been  angry ;  and  I  consider  that  the  prize  for  '  regu- 
lar attendance '  is  the  most  creditable  prize  that  a 
man  can  win — far  more  creditable  than  all  the  prizes 
for  intellect  and  learning  and  things  of  that  kind." 

But  Miss  Harland  was  not  to  be  interrupted. 
"  Of  course  it  is  absurd  to  couple  my  name  with 
Philip  Cartwright's  in  the  way  you  are  doing,"  she 


ROBBEN    ISLAND.  387 

continued,  with  the  natural  indignation  of  the  woman 
who  likes  to  hear  her  name  thus  coupled ;  "  but  I 
cannot  deny  that  my  friendship  with  him  has  been 
one  of  the  greatest  benefits  I  ever  experienced  in  my 
life.  He  is  such  an  understanding  man — besides 
being  so  wise  and  clever — that  one  can  tell  him  noth- 
ing that  he  doesn't  enter  into." 

"  A  man  is  none  the  less  nice  for  not  understand- 
ing a  woman — and  he  thinks  her  all  the  nicer,"  Lady 
Silverhampton  interpolated. 

"  He  understands  so  thoroughly  all  that  one 
thinks  and  feels,  that  talking  to  him  is  like  talking  to 
another  woman." 

"  Then  I  don't  believe  he  is  in  love  with  you,  El- 
frida ;  for  when  a  man  is,  it  isn't  at  all  like  talking  to 
another  woman.  Surely  you've  learnt  that." 

"  Philip  Cartwright  isn't  like  other  men." 

"  Stuff !  There  is  very  little  variety  in  men ; 
there  are  about  six  religions  and  two  politics  and 
one  way  of  falling  in  love ;  so  that,  though  they  may 
slightly  vary  in  the  two  former  lines  of  business,  they 
are  absolutely  identical  in  their  treatment  of  the  last. 
Do  you  think  that  the  Cartwright  man  is  in  love  with 
you  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  Elfrida,  with  a  smile  that 
meant  she  thought  she  did. 

"  Does  he  write  to  you  ?  "  catechized  Lady  Silver- 
hampton, who  was  always  consumed  by  absorbing 
curiosity  regarding  affairs  of  the  heart. 

"  Yes." 

"  Long  letters  ?  " 

"  Well,  not  exactly  long,  but  awfully  nice  ones." 

"  Pooh !  the  niceness  is  nothing — it  is  the  length 
which  counts.  Niceness  takes  no  time;  but  a  long 
letter  is  always  a  compliment,  however  nasty  it  may 


388  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

be.  Then  does  he  talk  to  you  a  lot  of  nonsense  about 
feelings  in  the  abstract,  in  the  way  you  are  so  fond  of 
doing? " 

"  Yes ;  that  is  one  reason  why  I  like  him  so 
much." 

"  Ah !  that  is  another  bad  sign.  When  a  man  is 
really  in  love  he  doesn't  talk  about  feelings  in  the  ab- 
stract. He  wants  to  know  what  A  said  to  you,  and 
what  you  said  to  A,  and  then  he  wants  to  go  and 
punch  A's  head." 

"  You  are  very  rude,"  Elfrida  repeated. 

"  So  you  have  already  remarked.  But  it  riles  me 
to  see  you  throwing  away  the  substance  of  Jack  Le 
Mesurier  for  the  shadow  of  Philip  Cartwright.  In 
spite  of  your  devotion  to  the  Church,  you  must  ad- 
mit that  a  layman  in  the  hand  is  worth  two  parsons 
in  the  bush." 

"  But  you  don't  seem  to  understand  how  much 
more  companionable  I  find  Philip  than  Jack." 

"  I  don't  believe  it.  I  own  that  Mr.  Cartwright 
is  a  delightful  man  to  sit  next  to  at  a  party;  he  al- 
ways says  the  right  thing,  and  he  listens  when  you 
do.  But  he  is  a  man  with  convictions ;  and  a  man 
with  convictions  always  asks  unsuitable  people  to 
dinner,  and  lives  on  the  wrong  side  of  London,  and 
so  is  dreadfully  tiresome  as  a  husband.  Besides 
which,  you  haven't  got  him  as  a  husband,  and  I  don't 
believe  you  ever  will.  I  fancy  he  was  once  in  love 
with  some  woman  who  died  or  married  or  went 
abroad  or  something,  and  that  he'll  never  marry 
again." 

"  He  can't  marry  again,"  objected  Elfrida,  "  see- 
ing that  he  has  never  married  at  all." 

"  How  fussy  you  are !  I  always  call  it  marrying 
again  when  people  have  been  engaged  or  anything 


ROBBEN   ISLAND. 


389 


before.  And  if  you  are  going  to  be  so  particular 
about  my  language  I'm  off  to  bed,  for  I'm  far  too 
sleepy  to  pick  my  words.  Heigho !  here  have  I 
been  wasting  my  time  talking  about  such  a  trifle  as 
your  future  husband,  when  I  ought  to  have  been  giv- 
ing my  attention  to  my  new  gown,  and  deciding 
whether  I  will  have  a  London  physician  down  to 
see  it,  or  whether  I  will  get  it  admitted  into  the  Home 
for  Incurables.  I  always  was  far  too  unselfish,  and 
this  is  a  proof  of  it.  Good-night,  my  dear ;  you  have 
been  a  perfect  lunatic  to  refuse  Jack  Le  Mesurier, 
and  I  think  you  the  greatest  idiot  I  know ;  but  I  like 
you,  and  I  always  shall,  you  are  so  delightfully 
pretty." 

After  her  ladyship  had  rushed  out  of  the  room, 
Elfrida  still  sat  staring  into  the  fire. 

"  I  am  sure  I  am  in  love  with  Philip  Cartwright," 
she  thought  to  herself,  "  because  I  agree  with  all  his 
views  on  religion  and  art  and  politics  and  society, 
and  therefore  enjoy  discussing  everything  with  him ; 
and  I  am  sure  I  am  not  in  love  with  Jack,  because  I 
never  want  to  talk  anything  but  nonsense  with  him. 
The  restful  affection  I  have  for  Philip  is  far  more 
comfortable  than  the  silly,  feverish  sort  of  thrill  I  feel 
— I  mean  I  used  to  feel — for  Jack.  How  school- 
girlish  it  was !  I  wonder  what  Jack  is  doing  now, 
and  whether  he  minds  dreadfully  that  I  won't  be 
friends  with  him.  I  expect  he  does.  There  comes 
a  certain  look  in  his  eyes  when  he  really  minds 
things,  and  his  voice  has  a  queer,  hoarse  sound ;  and 
both  his  eyes  and  his  voice  showed  it  when  I  pun- 
ished him  that  morning.  I  would  give  anything  to 
know  what  he  actually  felt,  and  what  he  did  after  he 
left  me.  I  wonder  whether  he  cared  enough  to  cry, 
or  whether  men  ever  do  cry  about  things  like  that. 


390 


A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 


If  he  did,  poor  boy !  there  was  no  one  to  comfort 
him,  all  by  himself  in  that  big,  old  house ;  and  yet 
it  would  have  been  rather  nice  to  be  the  person  to 
comfort  him,  somehow.  I  shall  never  forget  how 
white  his  face  was,  and  how  the  muscles  round  his 
mouth  twitched  when  I  told  him  I  cared  for  some 
one  else.  I  wonder  if  he  is  fretting  now,  or  whether 
he  is  getting  over  it.  I  hope  he  won't  fret  till  he 
makes  himself  ill ;  but  he  is  very  likely  to,  as  Jack 
always  was  careless  about  his  health ;  and  if  he  does, 
there'll  be  nobody  to  look  after  him,  poor  old  boy! 
I  wish  he'd  got  a  sister  or  a  mother  to  see  that  he 
takes  proper  care  of  himself.  But  I  was  quite  right 
to  tell  him  the  truth,  however  painful  it  may  be.  And 
I  am  perfectly  certain  that  I'm  far  more  in  love  with 
Philip  than  I  am  with  Jack ;  he  is  much  more  my 
sort.  But  Evelyn  never  did  understand  me,  and 
never  will ;  it  is  funny  that  she  is  so  stupid  where  I 
am  concerned,  as  she  generally  has  such  quick  per- 
ceptions." 

Then  Miss  Harland  roused  herself  sufficiently  to 
ring  for  her  maid ;  and  all  the  time  that  the  latter 
was  brushing  out  the  wealth  of  golden  hair  Elfrida 
continued  mentally  to  congratulate  herself  on  her  un- 
flinching straightforwardness  in  speaking  the  truth  to 
her  old  lover,  and  to  wonder  why  Lady  Silverhamp- 
ton's  usually  acute  perceptions  had  failed  so  signally  in 
diagnosing  her  present  condition.  "  I  believe  she  still 
actually  thinks  I  am  in  lovewith  Jack,"  Elfrida  said  to 
herself ;  "  it  really  isn't  like  Evelyn  to  be  so  stupid !  " 
When  the  party  at  Grasslands  broke  up  after 
Whitsuntide,  Elfrida  spent  a  few  days  at  Sunnydale 
with  her  grandparents,  and  enjoyed  the  privilege  of 
beholding,  for  the  first  time,  the  amiable  side  of  femi- 
nine society  there.  Mrs.  Cottle  received  her  with 


ROBBEN    ISLAND. 


391 


open  arms,  and  called  upon  her  the  day  after  her  ar- 
rival. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Harland,"  she  began,  "  I  cannot 
tell  you  what  a  pleasure  it  is  to  me  to  welcome  you 
once  more  into  our  midst." 

"  Thank  you,"  replied  Elfrida,  who  could  not  help 
remembering  that,  in  the  days  of  her  assumed  pov- 
erty, it  had  been  the  one  aim  and  object  of  the  good 
ladies  of  Sunnydale  to  drive  her  out  of  their  midst. 
But  circumstances  alter  cases,  as  everybody  knows 
whose  circumstances  have  ever  undergone  any  al- 
teration. 

"  I  always  felt,"  Mrs.  Cottle  continued,  "  that  you 
were  not  altogether  what  you  seemed."  (This  was 
quite  true.)  "  In  fact,  it  is  a  peculiarity  of  mine  to  dis- 
cover true  refinement  under  whatsoever  guise  it  may 
be  hidden.  All  my  family  have  the  same  gift :  we 
know  a  real  lady  when  we  see  one."  This  also  was 
true  as  far  as  it  went,  as  Mrs.  Cottle's  idea  of  a  real 
lady  was  a  person  who  never  wore  a  last  year's  gown  ; 
it  was  quite  easy  to  recognize  such  a  person  on  a  very 
slight  acquaintance. 

"  I  see,  like  the  princess  and  the  pea  in  Hans 
Andersen." 

"  Ah !  dear  Miss  Harland,  I  have  not  read  the 
novel  to  which  you  allude,  I  am  ashamed  to  say ;  but 
I  feel  sure  it  must  be  quite  a  correct  one,  or  so  gen- 
teel a  young  lady  as  yourself  would  not  condescend 
to  quote  it ;  so  I  shall  recommend  it  to  my  dear  girls 
without  delay.  Their  papa  and  I  are  so  careful 
about  what  they  read ;  we  like  them  to  confine  them- 
selves to  standard  works  as  far  as  possible,  or  to  the 
magazines  which  are  published  for  Sunday  reading. 
I  think  one  cannot  be  too  careful  in  the  training  of 
young  girls." 


392 


A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 


Elfrida,  who  was  considerably  the  junior  of  the 
Miss  Cottles,  smiled. 

"  I  am  always  so  thankful  that  there  is  nothing 
frivolous  about  my  dear  girls,"  the  proud  mother 
continued ;  "  they  make  it  a  rule  never,  if  possible, 
to  meet  any  person,  however  casually,  without  teach- 
ing that  person  something  and  learning  something 
in  return ;  and  it  is  this  habit  which  has  rendered 
them  so  well-informed.  I  assure  you,  Janetta  can 
tell  you  the  staple  commodity  of  all  the  towns  in 
England  and  Scotland  straight  off;  while  there  is 
not  a  fancy  stitch  in  crochet  or  tatting  of  which  Em- 
meline  is  not  complete  master.  Oh !  I  have  every 
reason  to  be  proud  of  my  girls." 

"  They  are  certainly  most  exceptional,"  agreed 
Elfrida ;  and  their  mother,  mistaking  this  for  a  com- 
pliment, was  delighted. 

But  there  was  no  one  at  Sunnydale  so  much  al- 
tered as  Julia  Welford  ;  and  this  transformation  scene 
was  totally  independent  of  any  change  in  Elfrida's 
circumstances.  Julia  had  become  engaged  to  a 
curate,  an  old  schoolfellow  of  Percy's ;  and  her  bitter- 
ness had  evaporated  like  the  mist  of  the  morning.  It 
is  but  rarely  that  feminine  cynicism  survives  the 
test  of  an  established  place  and  position  in  the 
scheme  of  the  universe :  this  is  an  alkali  which  will 
successfully  counteract  all  acidity  in  ninety-nine 
women's  hearts  out  of  every  hundred ;  and  Julia 
Welford's  was  one  of  the  ninety-nine.  Her  curate 
was  an  admirable  young  man,  as  Julia  was  well 
aware.  His  manners,  however,  left  much  to  be  de- 
sired, and  his  sermons  even  more ;  but  this,  of  course, 
she  did  not  know ;  she  was  in  love  with  him.  Still  he 
had  the  makings  of  a  man  in  him,  and  of  a  good  man 
too ;  there  was  work  for  him  to  do  in  the  world,  and 


ROBBEN   ISLAND. 


393 


he  was  going  to  do  it ;  and  he  was  going  to  do  it  all 
the  better  because  he  had  found  one  woman  to  be- 
lieve in  him  and  worship  him  whilst  his  intellect  was 
as  yet  in  its  chrysalis  state  and  his  power  was  a 
promise  rather  than  a  possession.  Mahomet  is  by 
no  means  the  only  prophet  who  has  been  able  to 
say  "  Khadija  believed  in  me  when  no  one  else  did," 
and  who  has  owed  much  of  his  subsequent  success 
and  strength  to  this  belief. 

In  return,  the  curate  had  bridled  Julia's  tongue, 
and  had  taught  her  that  her  battle  against  the  world 
was  a  useless  and  unwarrantable  warfare ;  and  this, 
not  by  preaching  at  her,  but  by  merely  showing 
her  that  she  formed  an  integral  part  of  life's 
happiness  as  far  as  he  was  concerned.  So  much 
can  two  quite  ordinary  human  beings  do  for  each 
other. 

"  I  want  you  to  pardon  me  for  being  so  unkind 
to  you,"  she  said  humbly  to  Elfrida ;  "  I  knew  I  was 
hateful ;  but  it  is  only  since  I  became  engaged  to 
Leonard  that  I  have  seen  how  detestable  I  used  to 
be.  Isn't  it  wonderful  how  caring  for  good  people 
shows  one  one's  own  faults  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  it  does.  And  please  don't  think  any 
more  about  not  being  kind  to  me  when  I  was  mas- 
querading as  Ethel :  it  was  horrid  of  me  to  play  such 
a  trick,  and  I  deserved  any  snubbing  that  I  might 
get." 

"  But  that  is  no  excuse  for  me :  the  fact  that  I  be- 
lieved you  to  be  poor,  ought  to  have  made  me  all  the 
kinder  to  you.  It  is  only  since  I  met  Leonard,  and 
saw  how  beautiful  real  goodness  is,  that  I  have  learnt 
how  wrong  it  was  of  me  to  go  through  life  finding 
fault  with  everybody  and  everything,  and  caring 
only  for  my  own  selfish  pleasures.  But  one  cannot 
26 


394  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

go  on  being  selfish  and  horrid  after  one  has  been 
brought  into  contact  with  such  a  life  as  his." 

Thus,  by  thinking  each  other  perfect,  do  we  poor 
faulty  men  and  women  ourselves  draw  nearer  to  per- 
fection. 

But  Elfrida  did  not  linger  long  at  Sunnydale. 
Philip  Cartwright  had  returned  to  Greystone,  he  in- 
formed her  in  one  of  his  delightful,  though  short, 
epistles ;  and  she  was  anxious  to  see  him  again — at 
least  so  she  said  to  herself,  and  she  was  naturally  the 
only  reliable  authority  on  the  subject. 

The  morning  after  her  arrival  at  the  Dower 
House  there  came  a  ring  at  the  front-door  bell.  El- 
frida's  heart  gave  a  great  throb,  and  she  wondered 
if  it  was  Jack ;  but  she  speedily  corrected  herself, 
and  hoped  that  it  was  Philip.  With  a  success  which 
does  not  attend  all  our  wishes,  the  hope  was  ful- 
filled ;  so  of  course  Miss  Harland  was  delighted,  and 
even  went  so  far  as  to  assure  herself  that  she  was, 
as  she  looked  in  the  glass  and  patted  her  fringe  pre- 
paratory to  welcoming  her  visitor. 

"  How  do  you  do?"  she  said,  holding  out  both 
her  hands  as  she  walked  across  her  drawing-room  to 
meet  him.  "  I  am  most  awfully  glad  to  see  you 
again,  and  it  is  so  nice  of  you  to  come  and  see  me 
so  soon  after  my  return  home." 

"  It  isn't  really,  because  I  wanted  to  come.  A 
great  deal  has  happened  to  me  since  I  saw  you  last, 
and  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about  it  all." 

"  Then  let  us  sit  down  and  have  a  nice  long  chat. 
Arabella  has  gone  for  a  walk,  so  we  shall  not  be 
interrupted  by  her;  and  I  do  hope  no  bothering 
callers  will  come.  But  that  is  hardly  likely  in  a 
morning." 

Elfrida  was  conscious  of  an  absurd  desire  on  her 


ROBBEN    ISLAND. 


395 


part  to  listen  for  another  ring  at  the  front-door  bell. 
In  fact,  so  intently  was  she  bent  on  this  fruitless  and 
ridiculous  exercise  that  it  was  with  difficulty  she 
recalled  her  wandering  attention  to  the  rector's  con- 
versation. When  she  did  so  she  found  him  saying : 
"  So  I  stayed  on  in  London,  seeing  a  great  many  old 
friends  both  in  high  and  low  life;  and  it  is  always 
a  solemn  experience  renewing  old  friendships.  With 
some  friends  one  can  leave  a  bookmarker  just  where 
one  left  off,  and  begin  again  in  exactly  the  same 
place ;  while  with  others  one  has  to  read  friendship's 
preface  over  again  every  time  one  meets  them; 
whereby  much  time  is  wasted." 

"  Yes,  isn't  it  horrid  ?  " 

"  It  is  indeed ;  it  is  so  disheartening.  Often  the 
sight  of  an  old  friend  destroys  a  friendship  instead 
of  renewing  it ;  and  I  always  think  that  is  a  terribly 
sad  thing  to  happen.  Don't  you  know  how  you 
cherish  an  old  friend  in  your  heart,  and  write  to  him 
as  he  used  to  be,  and  think  how  pleased  he  will  be  to 
hear  this  about  you,  and  how  grieved  he  will  be  to 
hear  that?  Then  suddenly  you  come  face  to  face 
with  a  stranger,  who  bears  his  name  and  wears  his 
bodily  presence,  yet  who  is  a  totally  different  person 
from  the  friend  of  your  memory,  and  totally  indiffer- 
ent to  both  your  joys  and  your  sorrows.  And  so 
you  lose  your  old  friend,  and  there  is  nothing  left  of 
him — not  even  a  grave." 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  said  Elfrida  absently.  She  was 
wondering  that  that  front-door  bell  did  not  ring 
again ;  it  was  quite  time  for  it  to  do  so,  and  she  was 
beginning  to  think  that  it  really  was  not  a  satis- 
factory front-door  bell  at  all ;  just  as  sometimes  we 
feel  inclined  to  dismiss  our  postman  because  he  is 
so  sadly  remiss  in  bringing  us  the  letters  we  are 


396  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

longing  for.  Surely  bells  and  postmen  ought  to 
know  their  duty  a  little  better  than  this ! 

The  rector,  however,  was  so  full  of  his  own  con- 
cerns just  then  that  he  did  not  notice  her  abstraction, 
but  went  on :  "I  am  thinking  of  making  a  great 
change  in  my  life,  and  I  have  come  to  talk  to  you 
about  it." 

"  He  is  going  to  ask  me  to  marry  him,"  Elfrida 
said  to  herself ;  and  this  interested  her  so  much  that 
she  even  forgot  to  listen  for  the  bell. 

"  You  and  I  so  generally  think  alike  upon  ques- 
tions, and  look  at  things  from  the  same  point  of 
view,"  he  continued,  "  that  I  feel  very  little  doubt 
about  our  seeing  eye  to  eye  in  this  matter.  Never- 
theless I  want  to  hear  from  your  own  lips  that  you 
do  so." 

Elfrida  felt  piqued.  "  He  makes  pretty  sure  that 
I  shall  accept  him,"  she  thought ;  "  Jack  was  younger 
and  better-looking  than  he  is,  yet  he  was  never  so 
cocksure  of  himself  as  this." 

"  Do  you  remember,  Miss  Harland,  the  first  time 
I  met  you  at  dinner  at  the  Silverhamptons'  ?  " 

"  Yes,  perfectly  well.  I  wore  my  pale  blue  bro- 
cade." 

"Did  you?  I  am  afraid  I  did  not  notice  that; 
but  I  can  distinctly  recall  all  the  things  we  talked 
about." 

It  was  noteworthy  that  Philip  could  have  told 
even  now  exactly  what  gown  Laura  Greenfield  had 
worn  on  every  occasion ;  but  of  course  Elfrida  was 
not  aware  of  this.  It  is  always  fortunate  that  a 
woman  has  no  way  of  finding  out  exactly  what  a 
man  thinks  of  another  woman ;  otherwise  life  might 
be  far  less  pleasant  than  it  is — both  for  women  and 
men. 


ROBBEN    ISLAND. 


397 


"  I  remember  we  found  out  then  that  we  thought 
alike  and  agreed  about  many  things,"  said  Elfrida. 

"  I  know  we  did ;  and  that  is  why  1  feel  so  sure 
that  we  shall  agree  about  a  very  great  thing  now. 
So  let  me  begin  my  story  at  the  beginning.  First, 
I  have  been  offered  the  bishopric  of  Camchester." 

"Have  you?  How  very  interesting!  You  are 
just  the  man  for  a  bishop,  as  you  have  the  gift  of 
statesmanship,  and  one  of  the  few  complexions  that 
won't  look  sallow  in  purple." 

Mr.  Cartwright  laughed,  and  Elfrida  decided  in 
her  own  mind  that,  as  a  bishop's  wife,  she  should 
always  be  very  charming  to  the  minor  clergy,  but 
should  not  bother  herself  much  about  their  wives. 

"  I  saw  the  premier  while  I  was  up  in  town," 
the  rector  continued,  "  and  he  seemed  very  desirous 
that  I  should  accept  the  see,  as  it  comprises  a  large 
manufacturing  district,  and  he  was  kind  enough  to 
say  that  it  requires  a  man  of  affairs  at  its  head." 

"  And  you  are  a  thorough  man  of  affairs,  you 
know,"  Elfrida  said ;  "  you  have  in  such  unusual 
measure  the  uncommon  quality  of  common  sense." 
She  was  thinking  that  if  she  married  a  bishop  she 
should  give  up  wearing  a  hat  on  Sundays,  and 
take  to  a  bonnet ;  it  seemed  so  much  more  episco- 
pal. 

"  It  is  very  kind  of  you  to  say  so,  and  still  kinder 
of  you  to  think  so,  Miss  Harland.  Don't  you  know 
how  delightful  it  is  when  our  friends  agree  with  us 
with  regard  to  our  own  virtues  ?  As  a  rule  they  have 
a  reprehensible  trick  of  thinking  we  are  weak  where 
we  consider  ourselves  strong,  and  vice  versa.  Now, 
to  tell  the  truth,  I  pride  myself  upon  my  common 
sense;  therefore  I  am  prepared  to  find  that  my 
friends  see  in  me  a  sentimental  and  visionary  faddist ; 


398  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

and  it  is  indeed  a  treat  to  find  that  you  support  my 
opinion." 

"  I  really  do,"  replied  Elfrida,  who  was  enough 
of  a  woman  of  the  world  to  have  said  she  did  even 
if  she  did  not.  A  woman  who  disagrees  about  things 
that  do  not  signify,  is  an  evil  and  a  bitter  thing. 
However,  as  she  actually  did  think  alike  with  the 
rector  this  time,  she  enlarged  upon  the  subject.  "  I 
am  sure  you  would  make  quite  an  ideal  bishop,  you 
have  such  princely  manners.  I  don't  think  you 
have  any  idea  how  very  lordly  you  are;  some- 
times it  is  quite  like  a  confirmation — if  not  a  charge 
— to  hear  you  ask  for  a  second  cup  of  tea."  It  is 
funny  how  easy  some  women  find  it  to  say  pretty 
things  to  a  man  if  they  don't  love  him,  and  how  dif- 
ficult if  they  do. 

"  Well,  I  have  thought  the  matter  over  both  care- 
fully and  prayerfully,  as  no  one  has  a  right  to  set 
so  great  an  honour  lightly  on  one  side ;  and  the  cant 
of  pretending  that  one's  affections  are  so  securely 
set  upon  things  above  that  one  is  incapable  of  focus- 
sing the  things  that  are  Caesar's,  is  an  affectation 
whereof  I  trust  I  may  never  be  guilty.  It  is  like 
singing  hymns  on  a  Sunday  begging  for  earthly  dis- 
honour and  the  lowest  place,  and  then  spending  all 
one's  week-days  in  getting  into  town  councils  and 
thence  into  Parliament — a  contradiction  not  infre- 
quent in  religious  circles.  But,  after  careful  thought, 
I  came  to  the  decision  that  a  bishopric  is  not  for 
me." 

"  Why  on  earth  not  ?  I  should  have  thought  that 
you  were  made  for  it,"  exclaimed  Elfrida,  hardly 
believing  that  she  had  heard  aright. 

"  No — oh  !  no.  Perhaps  if  my  lot  had  been  differ- 
ent— if  I  had  had  some  one  to  share  life's  good  things 


ROBBEN    ISLAND. 


399 


with  me — I  might  have  accepted  such  things  and 
made  a  right  use  of  them :  I  cannot  tell.  All  I  know 
now  is  that  my  life — or  rather  the  preface  to  my  life, 
as  one's  earthly  existence  is  no  more  than  that — 
is  spoiled  past  reparation,  and  that  success  and  fail- 
ure, riches  and  poverty,  are  henceforth  alike  to  me; 
as  they  have  been  alike  ever  since  the  woman  I  loved 
left  me,  and  turned  the  brightness  of  my  noonday 
into  night." 

Philip's  eyes  were  dreamy  with  memories  of 
Laura,  so  he  did  not  see  the  consternation  written 
on  Elfrida's  face. 

"  Therefore,"  he  continued,  "  I  have  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  if  real  happiness  is  denied  to  one, 
there  is  no  good  in  straining  after  some  feeble  imi- 
tation of  it.  If  the  cup  of  joy  is  placed  in  a  man's 
hands,  I  should  call  him  morbid  if  for  some  senti- 
mental reason  he  put  it  on  one  side,  and  chose  the 
cup  of  bitterness  instead.  God  has  given  it  to  him — 
therefore  let  him  drink  it  and  be  thankful,  and  not 
worry  himself  with  absurd  notions  that  unhappiness 
would  have  been  better  for  his  character ;  that  is 
God's  business,  not  his.  But  if  the  cup  of  happiness 
is  denied  him  in  spite  of  all  his  prayers  and  entreaties, 
then  let  him  drink  the  cup  of  duty,  and  cease  from 
rebelling  against  the  inevitable,  hoping  that  in  an- 
other world  than  this  whatever  he  has  lacked  here 
shall  be  made  up  to  him.  So  I  have  declined  the 
bishopric  of  Camchester,  and  decided  to  go  out  as  a 
missionary  to  the  lepers  on  Robben  Island." 

"  You — as  a  missionary  to  lepers?  I  never  heard 
of  such  a  thing  in  my  life." 

Philip's  face  fell.  "  You  angl  I  are  so  much  alike 
that  I  thought  you  would  understand.  Please  don't 
scold  me.  I  know  I  have  chosen  rightly,  but  I  want 


400  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

to  hear  you  say  that  you  think  so  too.  Old  as  I  am, 
I  am  still  enough  of  a  child  to  long  for  praise  and 
approbation,  and  to  feel  miserable  and  homesick 
without  it." 

Elfrida  pulled  herself  together.  What  a  fool  she 
had  been,  she  said  to  herself !  Still  there  is  one  thing 
worse  than  being  a  fool,  and  that  is  letting  other 
people  know  that  you  have  been  a  fool ;  and  if  Miss 
Harland  was  not  clever  enough  to  avoid  the  one 
evil,  she  was  quite  capable  of  keeping  clear  of  the 
other.  Moreover,  it  was  only  her  vanity  that  was 
hurt  and  not  her  love  ;  and  when  Vanity  masquerades 
in  Love's  garments,  he  can  get  over  wounds,  and  be 
none  the  worse  for  them,  the  smart  whereof  would 
make  Love  swoon  with  pain.  So  she  managed  to 
talk  to  the  rector  about  his  plans ;  and  so  success- 
fully simulated  sympathy  and  interest,  that  Philip — 
not  being  in  love  with  her — was  completely  taken  in, 
and  congratulated  himself  that  he  had  not  relied  in 
vain  upon  the  friendship  and  support  of  this  charm- 
ing woman.  It  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  adaptability 
is  a  woman's  crowning  virtue  in  the  eyes  of  all  men 
save  the  one  who  loves  her,  and  he  cannot  stand  it  at 
any  price. 

So  Philip  Cartwright  confided  his  hopes  and 
ideals  of  missionary  life  to  Elfrida,  and  she  listened 
and  applauded  him.  Never  having  felt  anything  but 
friendship  for  her,  he  did  not  dream  that  she  had  ever 
felt  anything  but  friendship  for  him ;  and,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  she  had  not ;  but  she  had  pretended  to  herself 
that  she  had,  in  order  to  hurt  Jack — just  as  one  takes 
a  cake  from  a  naughty  boy  and  gives  it  to  a  good  one, 
not  to  please  the  one  but  in  order  to  punish  the  other. 

After  the  rector  had  concluded  his  call,  Elfrida  sat 
alone  amid  the  ruins  of  her  house  of  cards,  and  felt 


ROBBEN   ISLAND. 


401 


decidedly  upset.  Then  she  carefully  removed  Love's 
garments  from  Vanity's  stricken  form,  and  found 
that  the  latter's  wounds,  though  extremely  painful, 
were  by  no  means  serious.  So  she  set  about  putting 
salve  on  them,  and  binding  them  up ;  and  began  the 
cure  by  looking  at  herself  in  the  glass,  and  then  by 
dwelling  upon  the  fact  that  Mr.  Cartwright  was  much 
stouter  and  less  attractive  than  he  used  to  be.  As 
Vanity  appeared  to  revive  under  this  skilful  treat- 
ment, she  went  on  to  assure  herself  that  to  marry  a 
clergyman  was  to  turn  the  world  into  one  big  parish- 
room  and  life  into  one  interminable  Sunday ;  and  that 
clergymen's  wives  were  never  smart — or  at  any  rate 
ought  not  to  be ;  which  doctrines  had  so  salutary 
an  effect  upon  the  invalid,  that  Elfrida  was  encour- 
aged to  continue  the  cure  by  insisting  upon  the  fact 
that  nothing  would  have  induced  her  to  marry  the 
rector  even  if  he  had  asked  her,  and  that  it  was  there- 
fore a  good  thing  that  he  had  perceived  this,  and  had 
so  saved  himself  from  the  mortification  of  a  refusal. 
Thus  did  Elfrida  Harland  nurse  her  wounded  Vanity 
until  its  temperature  was  restored  to  within  a  few 
degrees  of  normal ;  and  she  did  not  leave  it  until 
she  was  satisfied  that  it  was  completely  out  of  dan- 
ger, and  that  'now  nothing  remained  to  be  done  but 
to  get  up  its  strength  again. 

But  while  Vanity  was  making  such  rapid  strides 
towards  convalescence,  poor  Love  was  suffering 
more  and  more  through  the  negligence  of  that  care- 
less front-door  bell.  It  was  now  close  upon  lunch- 
time  ;  and  yet  that  bell  had  never  so  much  as  quivered 
since  the  rector  rang  it  a  couple  of  hours  ago.  It 
certainly  needed  the  bell-hanger  to  see  to  it,  as  it  was 
turning  its  office  into  a  perfect  sinecure.  Love  was 
starving;  and  lack  of  nourishment  is  a  serious  thing 


402  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

for  Love ;  yet  that  reprehensible  bell  remained  silent, 
though  Love  was  faint  with  the  longing  to  hear  it 
ring. 

Elfrida  looked  her  soul  full  in  the  face ;  and  she 
realized  that  her  fancy  for  Philip  Cartwright  had 
been  a  trumped-up  thing,  wherewith  she  had  striven 
to  lull  the  pain  of  her  longing  for  Jack.  For  a  time 
it  had  succeeded  in  soothing  the  pain,  and  so  she 
imagined  that  the  pain  was  cured ;  but  the  old  void 
in  her  life  had  begun  to  ache  more  than  ever,  now 
that  it  was  emptied  of  the  shams  and  rubbish  where- 
by she  had  endeavoured  to  choke  it  up.  She  had  not 
only  refused  Jack  and  deliberately  sent  him  out  of 
her  life,  which  he  might  have  forgiven ;  but  she  had 
told  him  that  she  loved  another  man — a  thing  far 
more  difficult  to  forgive.  There  was  no  way  out  of 
her  wretchedness,  as  far  as  she  could  see.  True,  she 
had  not  really  loved  Philip — she  had  only  thought 
she  did ;  but  if  Jack  had  found  it  so  hard  to  pardon 
her  for  deceiving  him  once,  how  could  he  ever  find  it 
in  his  heart  to  pardon  her  for  doing  it  a  second  time  ? 
And  he  would  never  be  able  to  understand  that  it 
was  herself  she  was  deceiving  and  not  him. 

Altogether  Elfrida's  cup  of  misery  was  full  to 
overflowing;  and  it  was  but  little  comfort  to  her  to 
remember  that  she  had,  with  her  own  hands,  mixed 
the  potion  which  she  found  it  so  bitter  to  drink. 

So  she  wished  that  she  was  dead,  and  ate  no 
lunch  that  day. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

CONCLUSION. 

"Tell  me,  sweetheart,  can  I  ever  forget  thee, 

Ever  regret  that  I  worshipped  thee  so  ; 
Ever  can  cease  to  rejoice  that  I  met  thee, 
Met  thee  and  loved  thee  a  long  time  ago?" 

LATE  in  the  afternoon  of  that  same  day  the  front- 
door bell  at  the  Dower  House  suddenly  remembered 
itself,  and  endeavoured  to  make  up  for  lost  time  by 
a  peal  that  very  nearly  brought  the  house  down.  El- 
frida  had  denied  herself  to  visitors,  because  her  eyes 
were  swollen  up  with  crying ;  but  at  the  sound  of 
that  bell  she  changed  her  mind,  and  decided  to  see 
the  only  person  who  would  dare  to  ring  her  bell 
like  that. 

Sir  John  Le  Mesurier  had  been  riding  all  day,  and 
riding  clothes  are  peculiarly  becoming  to  a  man  ;  even 
poor  Elfrida's  eyes,  swollen  as  they  were,  still  re- 
tained enough  of  their  wonted  fire  to  perceive  this. 

"  What  is  this  I  hear?  "  he  began,  too  much  ex- 
cited to  pause  for  ordinary  greetings.  "  Is  it  true 
that  Cartwright  has  refused  a  bishopric,  and  is  going 
out  as  a  missionary  to  the  lepers  on  Robben  Island  ?  " 

Elfrida  nodded  her  head  without  speaking.  She 
had  not  the  spirit  left  to  speak,  everything  seemed 
so  horrid. 

403 


404 


A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 


"  Then  you  have  refused  him  after  all  ?  "  Jack's 
face  was  all  aglow. 

Now  a  meaner  woman  than  Elfrida  would  have 
let  the  supposition  pass,  and  Philip  was  too  much  of  a 
gentleman  ever  to  have  set  it  straight.  Elfrida  knew 
this ;  but,  though  extremely  foolish,  she  did  not  hap- 
pen to  be  mean. 

"  No,  I  didn't,"  she  said  with  an  effort ;  "  because 
he  never  asked  me." 

Jack's  face  grew  very  black.  "  Do  you  mean  to 
say  that  he  behaved  like  a  cad  to  you  ?  Because  if  he 
did,  I'll  wring  his  neck,  parson  or  no  parson !  " 

It  is  to  be  noted  that  Philip  was  Jack's  greatest 
friend ;  but  Friendship  and  Love  rarely  consent  to 
hold  office  in  the  same  ministry. 

"  Oh !  no ;  he  didn't  behave  in  the  least  badly ;  it 
was  all  a  mistake.  But  I  don't  see  the  good  of  trying 
to  explain  it  to  you,  for  you  will  never  understand," 
said  Elfrida  despairingly. 

"  Then  don't  try  to  explain ;  I  can  believe  what 
you  tell  me  without  any  explanation." 

Whereupon  Elfrida  naturally  at  once  began  to 
explain.  "  You  see,  I  knew  I  was  in  love  with  some- 
body, and  I  couldn't  for  shame  own  to  myself  that 
it  was  with  you,  because  you  were  so  angry  with  me 
and  had  thrown  my  love  back  in  my  face.  So  I 
pretended,  in  my  own  mind,  that  it  was  with  Philip 
Cartwright.  But  it  wasn't  really — it  was  with  you." 

"With  me? — after  I  had  been  such  a  brute  to 
you  ?  " 

"  You  weren't  a  bit  of  a  brute,  Jack  ;  it  was  I 
who  was  such  a  beast  to  deceive  you  about  Ethel." 

"  Indeed  it  was  not !  "  replied  Jack  indignantly. 
"  You  had  a  perfect  right  to  try  my  affection  and  see 
if  it  was  the  real  thing  or  not ;  but  it  was  I  that  was 


CONCLUSION. 


405 


to  blame  for  being  such  a  fool  as  to  be  angry  with 
you.     I  cannot  forgive  myself,  and  never  shall." 

"  There  is  nothing  to  forgive.  You  were  right 
to  be  furious  with  any  woman*  for  deceiving  you. 
It  is  I  who  cannot  forgive  myself  and  never  shall." 
And  Elfrida  began  to  cry. 

"  There  is  nothing  to  forgive,  sweetheart,"  said 
Jack,  taking  her  in  his  arms.  "  You  didn't  mean  to 
deceive  me.  It  was  an  error  of  judgment,  perhaps, 
on  your  part  to  play  a  trick  upon  such  an  obstinate, 
pig-headed  fool  as  myself,  who  hadn't  the  wit  to  see 
that  you  had  never  once  gone  beyond  the  rules  of 
the  game,  or  done  anything  that  was  not  strictly 
fair  play ;  but  it  was  nothing  more.  And  you  are 
quite  sure  that  you  never  really  cared  for  Cart- 
wright  ?  " 

"  Absolutely ;  as  I  am  that  he  never  cared  for  me." 

"  Then  he  was  an  ass,"  remarked  Jack,  who  now 
found  it  as  difficult  to  forgive  the  rector  for  not  lov- 
ing Elfrida  as  he  had  before  found  it  for  doing  so, 
"  and  I  would  gladly  horsewhip  him  if  it  would 
give  you  the  slightest  satisfaction." 

"  It  wouldn't.  He  never  knew  anything  about 
it." 

"  Did  anybody  guess  that  you  liked  him  ?  "  asked 
Jack,  not  without  jealousy. 

"  Evelyn  Silverhampton  guessed  that  I  didn't." 

"  Ah  !  clever  woman  that !  " 

"  "  And  now  I  am  going  to  tell  you  all  about  every- 
thing from  the  beginning,"  said  Elfrida,  nestling 
contentedly  in  the  strong  arms  that  encircled  her. 

"  I  would  rather  you  did  not,  my  darling.  Ex- 
planations are  messy  things  at  best,  and  if  people 
really  love  one  another  there  is  no  need  for  them. 
I  never  met  with  any  difficulty  yet  that  explanations 


406  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

didn't  make  it  worse.  The  cleverest  woman  I  knew 
out  in  India  used  to  say  that  by  the  time  an  ex- 
planation is  necessary  it  is  useless." 

"  But,  Jack  deart  I  want  to  make  it  clear  to  you 
how  horrid  I  have  been,  and  how  frightfully  sorry 
I  am  that  I  vexed  you." 

"  And  I  want  to  make  it  clear  to  you  how  detest- 
able I  have  been,  and  how  furious  I  am  with  myself 
that  I  could  ever  have  been  such  a  brute ;  so  we  are 
quits." 

Elfrida  laughed  a  low  laugh  of  perfect  content- 
ment. "  Then  we  are  like  people  who  are  equally  in 
debt  to  each  other,  and  so  no  money  need  change 
hands." 

"  Exactly ;  and  we  won't  talk  about  our  blunders 
any  more ;  we  will  only  talk  about  how  much  we  love 
each  other." 

"  But  the  same  principle  might  be  applied  to  that 
also,  don't  you  see?  If  we  love  each  other  equally, 
no  protestations  of  affection  need  change  hands." 

"  Perhaps  they  needn't,  but  I  think  it  would  be  a 
good  deal  jollier  if  they  did.  So  I  intend  that  they 
shall." 

And  Jack  had  his  way. 

Lady  Silverhampton  was  delighted  at  the  news 
of  the  engagement.  As  Jack  and  Elfrida  had  first 
met  at  her  house,  she  felt  that  their  attachment  to 
each  other  was  a  sort  of  patent  and  copyright  of 
hers,  and  she  found  pleasure  in  it  accordingly. 
People  will  always  be  pleased  about  anything  if  they 
can  be  persuaded  that  it  was  their  suggestion  in  the 
first  instance,  and  not  the  product  of  any  alien  brain ; 
and  the  really  clever  folks  are  those  who  appear  to  be 
receiving  impressions  when  they  are  in  reality  con- 
veying them,  and  who,  like  an  engine  at  the  back 


CONCLUSION. 


407 


of  a  train,  seem  to  be  following  when  they  are  actu- 
ally leading. 

The  week  after  the  engagement  was  announced, 
the  lovers  went  to  stay  at  Grasslands,  and  were 
praised  as  heartily  by  their  hostess  as  if  they  had 
done  something  that  they  did  not  like,  instead  of 
something  that  they  did. 

"  You  dear  people,"  she  said  to  them  one  after- 
noon, as  they  were  having  tea  in  the  fine  old  garden, 
"  it  is  so  nice  to  see  you  both  look  so  happy !  I  can't 
bear  people  who  don't  look  happy !  Unhappiness 
suggests  poverty  and  indigestion  and  new  clothes, 
and  all  sorts  of  horrors.  It  is  worse  in  women  than 
in  men.  It  is  the  duty  of  all  women  to  look  happy — 
the  married  ones  to  show  that  they  don't  wish  they 
weren't  married,  and  the  unmarried  ones  to  show 
that  they  don't  wish  they  were." 

"  Still  I  expect  that  is  what  they  both  are  wish- 
ing, if  the  truth  must  be  told,"  suggested  Lord  Stone- 
bridge,  who  was  also  staying  at  Grasslands  for  a 
day  or  two. 

"  But  the  truth  mustn't  be  told ;  you  are  old 
enough  to  have  learnt  that  years  ago.  The  one 
object  of  all  our  lives  is  to  conceal  the  truth  at  any 
price.  For  instance,  I  have  broad  shoulders,  and 
Elfrida  has  narrow  ones ;  and  I  love  and  praise  my 
dressmaker  in  so  far  as  she  makes  me  look  narrow, 
and  Elfrida  loves  and  praises  hers  in  so  far  as  she 
makes  her  look  broad.  In  the  same  way,  because  I 
am  short,  I  have  my  hair  done  so  as  to  make  me  seem 
tall,  and  Elfrida,  being  tall,  does  her  hair  so  as  to  take 
something  off  her  height.  It  seems  to  me  a  ridiculous 
system,  I  confess ;  but  it  is  the  system  that  obtains 
under  the  sun." 

"  It  runs  through  everything,"  added  Miss  Har- 


4o8  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

land ;  "  women  who  hate  their  husbands  call  them 
'  my  dear,'  and  women  who  love  their  husbands 
pretend  that  they  don't ;  young  girls  swim  into 
a  room  like  stuffed  swans,  and  aged  women  hop 
and  skip  like  lambs,  in  order  that  the  former  may 
seem  not  young,  and  the  latter  may  appear  not 
old.  Now  it  cannot  be  a  disgrace  to  be  both  old 
and  young,  and  it  cannot  be  equally  reprehensible 
to  love  and  hate  one's  husband ;  so  surely  one 
of  the  two  types  could  afford  to  appear  what  it 
really  is." 

"  I  think  it  is  a  disgrace  to  be  young,"  said  Lady 
Silverhampton.  "  I  cannot  stand  youth  at  any  price. 
Youth  and  boiled  mutton  are  the  only  two  things  in 
the  world  that  I  really  hate." 

"  You  should  never  say  that  openly,"  corrected 
Lord  Stonebridge,  "  or  people  will  think  you  are 
jealous." 

"  My  dear  Stonebridge,  what  an  idea !  Just  think 
of  it.  I  jealous  of  raw,  infallible  creatures,  who  live 
on  chocolate-creams  and  believe  in  palmistry !  Now 
can  you  look  me  full  in  my  carefully-preserved  face, 
and  tell  me  you  candidly  believe  that  I  could  feel 
jealous  of  a  young  girl?  " 

"  No,  I  could  not,"  said  his  lordship  truthfully. 

"  Then  don't  talk  nonsense.  If  you  do,  I  shall 
punish  you  by  sending  you  in  to  dinner  with  a  very 
young  girl." 

"  Dear  lady,  as  you  are  strong  be  merciful !  " 

"  Dear  man,  as  you  are  old  be  sensible,  or  I  shall 
do  my  worst.  There  are  several  cases  of  what  I 
should  call  virulent  and  inflammatory  youth  in  the 
neighbourhood,  and  I  will  send  you  in  to  dinner 
with  one  of  them  as  sure  as  my  name  is  Evelyn  Sil- 
verhampton." 


CONCLUSION. 


409 


"  Which  it  isn't,"  said  Lord  Stonebridge  under 
his  breath. 

"  Then  what  is  it,  I  should  like  to  know  ?  " 

"  Evelyn   Fairfax,   Countess  of  Silverhampton." 

"  Fudge !  As  I  have  told  you  before,  accuracy 
is  your  besetting  sin ;  and  it  is  a  very  detestable  one, 
beside  carrying  age.  You  will  be  an  octogenarian 
by  the  time  you  are  sixty,  if  you  go  on  in  this  tire- 
some manner." 

"  My  lady,  my  lady,  your  statements  are  too  loose 
even  for  casual  conversation.  A  man  of  sixty 
couldn't  be  an  octogenarian,  even  to  please  you." 

"  Then  you'll  be  a  hexagon  or  a  hexameter,  or 
whatever  it  is — that  don't  matter;  but  what  does 
matter  is  that  you'll  be  a  bore.  In  fact,  you  are 
almost  one  already,  with  your  statistics  about  octo- 
genarians and  countesses.  You  really  are." 

"  He  will  bear  patiently  any  amount  of  abuse," 
said  Jack  Le  Mesurier,  "  as  long  as  you  don't  send 
him  in  to  dinner  with  a  young  girl." 

"  Well,  he'll  have  both  if  he  doesn't  look  out.  I'll 
send  him  in,  not  only  with  a  young  girl,  but  with 
an  intelligent  young  girl — one  that  has  learnt  botany, 
and  can  tell  him  what  family  the  table  decorations 
belong  to ;  and  if  that  doesn't  spoil  his  dinner  I  don't 
know  what  will." 

"  But  why  try  to  spoil  his  dinner?  "  Elfrida  asked. 
"  Men  love  a  good  dinner,  and  his  seems  a  deserving 
case." 

"  Because  he  said  I  was  jealous  of  young  girls." 

"  No,  I  did  not,"  pleaded  the  culprit ;  "  I  said  that 
other  people  would  say  you  were." 

His  hostess  shook  her  finger  at  him.    "  That  was 
worse ;  it  was  not  only  disagreeable  but  cowardly  as 
well.    I  am  ashamed  of  you,  Stonebridge !  " 
27 


4io 


A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 


Jack  and  Elfrida  smiled  at  each  other,  but  did  not 
speak.  They  were  both  too  happy  to  talk  much  just 
then. 

"  By  the  way,  Elfrida,"  continued  Lady  Silver- 
hampton,  "  what  have  you  done  with  those  grand- 
parents of  yours  that  you  went  to  stay  with  the  last 
time  you  were  here  ?  Are  they  still  at  Sunny  dale  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  but  they  are  leaving  there  at  once,  and 
going  to  live  at  Jack's  old  house  at  Silverhampton 
— the  one  that  his  aunt  left  him,  you  know.  Isn't  it 
good  of  Jack  to  lend  it  to  them  ?  " 

Elfrida  was  so  rich  that  she  loved  to  receive 
favours,  yet  rarely  did  so.  That  is  the  worst  of 
being  wealthy ;  kindness  is  so  seldom  shown  to  rich 
people,  because  they  are  supposed  not  to  need  it. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  they  do  not ;  but  as  a  matter  of 
something  greater  than  fact,  they  do. 

"  Oh,  how  lovely !  "  exclaimed  her  ladyship ;  "  I 
never  heard  of  anything  more  fitting  and  sweet.  I 
do  so  delight  in  grandparents — they  are  such  pic- 
turesque relations.  I  always  say  that  one's  parents 
are  a  necessity,  one's  grandparents  an  ornament, 
and  one's  husband's  parents  a  nuisance." 

"  Really,  really,  Lady  Silverhampton,  this  will 
never  do !  "  said  Jack.  "  You  are  positively  shock- 
ing us." 

"  Am  I?  Well,  none  of  you  were  ever  married  to 
the  Dowager  Lady  Silverhampton's  son,  so  you  don't 
know.  But  to  return  to  Elfrida's  sheep — I  mean 
her  grandparents.  That  is  a  lovely  old  house  at 
Silverhampton,  and  just  the  very  place  for  preserv- 
ing grandparents.  I  have  been  there  several  times. 
I  forget  the  name  of  it,  but  it  is  called  the  Vestry  or 
the  Psaltery  or  the  Belfry  or  something." 

"The  Deanery,"  corrected  Jack. 


CONCLUSION. 


411 


"  Oh !  yes,  that's  it.  I  knew  it  was  something 
that  ended  with  '  y '  and  had  to  do  with  religion. 
I  adore  Silverhampton — the  town  I  mean,  not  the 
man.  At  least,  I  mean  the  man  too,  of  course ;  but 
it  is  my  business  to  adore  the  man,  and  my  pleasure 
to  adore  the  town." 

"  Some  people  make  a  business  of  pleasure," 
Lord  Stonebridge  remarked ;  "  and  others  a  pleasure 
of  business." 

"  Don't  interrupt !  You  talk  so  much  that  I  can't 
get  a  word  in  edgeways.  What  was  I  saying? 
You've  made  me  forget  by  interrupting.  Oh !  I 
know ;  I  was  talking  about  Silverhampton,  and  El- 
frida's  grandparents.  It  is  quite  the  nicest  town  I 
know.  I  think  it  is  so  sweet  for  the  same  place  to 
have  grand  old  churches  and  deaneries,  and  then 
ironworks  and  collieries  as  well.  It  is  like  playing 
games  on  a  Sunday,  or  reading  a  religious  novel,  or 
driving  in  a  carriage  that  will  both  open  and  shut. 
I  do  love  everything  that  is  something  else  as  well. 
Things  and  people  which  are  only  themselves  are  so 
dull." 

"  I  didn't  find  it  a  success  to  be  somebody  else," 
said  Elfrida. 

"  No,  I  know  you  didn't.  Still,  it  must  have  been 
rather  fun  while  you  were  at  it,  and  it  has  all  turned 
out  well  in  the  end.  I  am  so  glad  that  you  are  going 
to  marry  a  stupid  man ;  it  will  be  so  much  nicer  for 
you  than  if  he  was  clever." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Jack. 

"  Oh !  I  beg  your  pardon ;  I  forgot  you  were 
there.  Nevertheless,  you  must  see  for  yourself  how 
much  better  it  is  for  Elfrida  to  marry  you  than  to 
marry  a  clever  man  who  could  see  through  her ;  now, 
isn't  it?" 


412  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  Much ;  both  for  her  and  for  me,"  laughed  Jack. 

"  But  he  can  see  through  ,me,"  objected  Elfrida; 
"  I  keep  nothing  from  him  now,  but  tell  him  all  my 
thoughts." 

Lady  Silverhampton  shrugged  her  shoulders. 
"  Pooh !  I  think  nothing  of  that  sort  of  seeing 
through ;  it  is  like  those  archways  which  seem  to 
lead  into  a  second  drawing-room,  and  turn  out  to  be 
nothing  but  a  looking-glass.  I  hate  those  things. 
The  Sunnydales  have  got  one  in  their  house  in  town ; 
and  one  day  I  saw  such  a  horrid,  fat,  little  woman 
in  the  back  drawing-room,  as  I  thought,  and  it 
turned  out  to  be  me.  Wasn't  it  sickening?  " 

"  It  was  impossible,"  said  Jack. 

"  No,  it  wasn't ;  it  really  happened.  I  think  it  is 
such  a  comfort  that  we  none  of  us  know  what  we 
look  like ;  otherwise  we  should  never  go  out  at  all." 

"  You  flatter  us,"  Lord  Stonebridge  remarked. 

"  Don't  be  sarcastic,  Stonebridge ;  it  doesn't  suit 
your  style  at  all.  Heavy  common-sense  is  your  role, 
and  you  ought  to  stick  to  it.  When  you  try  to  make 
jokes,  you  are  as  bad  as  the  provision-shops  that  sell 
toys  at  Christmas.  A  most  unfair  arrangement  for 
the  regular  toy-shops,  I  always  think !  I  wonder  it 
is  allowed." 

"What  is  my  role?"  Elfrida  wondered. 

"  A  cold  and  stately  manner,  added  to  a  refined 
and  polished  wit.  When  you  make  love  to  Jack, 
you  are  committing  the  sin  of  the  provision-shops." 

"Then  what  is  Jack's  line?" 

"  A  superb  physique,  splendid  pluck,  and  no 
brains.  If  ever  he  does  see  through  you,  he  will  be 
selling  toys  at  Christmas,  or  its  equivalent." 

"  Would  it  be  beside  the  mark  to  inquire  the 
nature  of  your  ladyship's  role?  "  asked  Jack. 


CONCLUSION. 


413 


"  Vapid  frivolity  and  good-natured  heartless- 
ness,"  replied  Lady  Silverhampton  with  a  laugh. 
Then  suddenly  she  jumped  up  from  her  seat  and 
turned  as  white  as  a  sheet.  "  Good  gracious !  there 
is  a  groom  leading  Silverhampton's  horse  up  the 
avenue,  all  covered  with  mud,  and  no  rider.  What 
can  have  happened  ?  That  is  the  horse  that  he  went 
out  riding  upon  just  after  lunch.  I  am  certain  there 
must  have  been  an  accident.  Oh,  my  poor  old 
boy !  What  shall  I  do  if  he  is  hurt  ?  "  And  before 
any  one  could  speak,  Lady  Silverhampton  was  half- 
way towards  the  avenue,  running  as  fast  as  a  girl 
of  sixteen. 

"  Even  she  also  emulates  the  provision-dealers ! " 
said  Elfrida,  as  the  three  started  in  pursuit. 

"  It's  all  right,"  panted  her  ladyship,  when  they 
reached  her  and  the  groom  ;  "  Silverhampton  has  had 
a  nasty  tumble,  but  he  isn't  hurt.  The  horse  put  his 
foot  in  a  rabbit-hole  as  they  were  galloping  across 
the  common,  and  came  down;  but  fortunately  with 
such  force  that  Silverhampton  fell  quite  clear  of  him. 
Oh  dear !  "  she  added,  putting  her  hand  on  her  heart ; 
"  what  a  fright  it  has  given  me !  I  thought  I  should 
have  died  when  I  saw  them  coming  up  the  avenue 
without  him.  I  think,  if  you  good  people  will  amuse 
yourselves  for  a  bit,  I  will  go  and  lie  down,  I  feel 
so  bad.  And  I  must  be  all  right  by  the  time  he 
comes  home;  it  upsets  him  most  awfully  if  there  is 
anything  wrong  with  me." 

"  Yes,  go,  dear,"  said  Elfrida  gently.  "  There  is 
nothing  at  all  to  worry  about,  you  know;  but  it  will 
set  you  up  to  rest  a  little." 

"  By  the  way,  I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  Mr.  Cart- 
wright  is  arriving  this  afternoon  to  pay  us  a  fare- 
well visit  before  going  abroad.  Would  you  mind 


414  A  DOUBLE   THREAD. 

receiving  him,  and  seeing  that  he  has  tea  or  some- 
thing, and  telling  him  that  I'm  engaged?  Don't  for 
worlds  tell  him  I'm  seedy,  or  else  it  will  get  to  Silver- 
hampton's  ears,  and  frighten  my  poor  boy  out  of 
his  wits.  Let  him  think  I'm  having  a  music-lesson 
or  interviewing  the  housekeeper,  or  having  a  gown 
tried  on." 

"  Very  well,  I  will  make  it  all  right,"  said  Elfrida, 
"  if  only  you  will  go  and  lie  down.  At  present  you 
look  like  a  sheet,  and  it  would  never  do  for  Lord 
Silverhampton  to  come  home  and  find  such  a  wreck 
of  a  wife  as  this.  How  is  he  coming?  " 

"  The  dog-cart  is  to  be  sent  over  to  Johnson's 
farm  for  him,  and  he  will  meet  it.  He  is  walking 
there  from  the  common,  so  he  must  be  all  right, 
mustn't  he? " 

"  Of  course  he  is,  or  he  couldn't  walk  some  four 
or  five  miles,"  Lord  Stonebridge  hastened  to  assure 
her :  "  I  couldn't  trudge  so  far,  even  without  an  acci- 
dent, on  such  a  hot  afternoon  as  this." 

So  Lady  Silverhampton  retired  from  the  scene  of 
action  for  awhile ;  and  shortly  afterwards  Philip  Cart- 
wright  arrived  from  the  station,  and  was  duly  con- 
ducted into  the  garden  and  sustained  with  tea.  He 
was  full  of  the  new  life  on  which  he  was  entering ; 
and  so  completely  succeeded  in  carrying  away  his 
hearers  by  his  own  enthusiasm,  that,  for  the  moment, 
he  almost  persuaded  them  to  become  missionaries 
too.  But  not  quite. 

While  they  were  still  sitting  talking  on  the  lawn, 
they  heard  a  dog-cart  coming  up  the  avenue;  and 
simultaneously  a  plump  little  figure  flew  out  of  the 
garden-door  and  down  the  steps  leading  from  the 
terrace. 

"  How  do  you  all  do  ?  "  shouted  Lord  Silver- 


CONCLUSION. 


415 


hampton,  jumping  out  of  the  cart,  and  coming  for- 
ward to  meet  his  guests. 

But  the  plump  little  figure  intervened.  "  My 
dear  old  boy,  what  have  you  been  doing  with  your- 
self? Are  you  quite  certain  that  you  are  not  hurt?  " 

"  Why,  you  don't  mean  to  say  you  have  been 
worrying  about  me,  Evie?"  said  his  lordship,  for- 
getting all  about  his  visitors  when  he  saw  his  wife's 
pale  face.  "  I'm  as  right  as  a  trivet,  not  even  a  bruise 
to  speak  of." 

"  You  are  quite  sure  you  are  not  deceiving  me?  " 

"  Good  heavens  !  no.  Think  of  me  deceiving  you  ! 
Why,  I  couldn't  do  it  if  I  tried,  you're  so  confound- 
edly sharp,  you  know.  But  it's  all  that  fool  of  a 
groom's  fault.  I  particularly  told  him  not  to  let  her 
ladyship  know  a  word  about  the  accident,  and  he 
has  blabbed  it  out  already  and  worried  you  to  death. 
I'll  send  him  about  his  business  to-morrow,  I'm 
hanged  if  I  won't,  confound  his  stupid  tongue ! " 

"  It  wasn't  his  fault  a  bit.  I  saw  him  coming  up 
the  avenue  and  ran  to  meet  him.  And  you  really  are 
all  right  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  am,  old  girl — haven't  got  a  scratch ; 
so  don't  you  worry  any  more.  And  I  say,  you  must 
let  me  go  and  speak  to  all  those  people  you've  got 
here.  They'll  wonder  what's  up." 

But  the  people  did  not  wonder;  they  knew  her 
ladyship  better  than  she  thought  they  did,  and  the 
majority  of  them  had  seen  her  face  when  the  groom 
came  up  the  avenue. 

Lady  Silverhampton  was  specially  brilliant  at  din- 
ner that  night,  and  talked  incessant  nonsense  from 
the  soup  to  the  savoury.  Elfrida  thought  she  had 
never  known  her  appear  so  frivolous  or  so  heartless. 
"  Nevertheless  she  does  keep  toys  in  her  provision- 


4l6  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

shop,"  Elfrida  said  to  herself,  "  though  she  is  gen- 
erally too  clever  to  put  them  in  the  window." 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  the  hostess  to  Mr.  Cart- 
wright  in  the  drawing-room  after  dinner,  "  that  these 
two  dear  young  people  are  going  to  marry  for  love  ? 
Isn't  it  queer  and  original  of  them?  In  fact,  I  really 
don't  know  which  is  the  queerest,  to  marry  for  love 
or  to  go  out  as  a  missionary.  I  feel  as  if  I  was  con- 
ducting a  wild  beast  show  when  I  see  all  you  strange 
specimens  collected  under  my  hospitable  roof;  I  do 
indeed." 

"  I  am  very  glad  that  they  have  made  it  up,"  re- 
plied the  rector,  lowering  his  voice ;  "  though  at  one 
time  I  was  sorely  afraid  that  they  would  not.  They 
are  so  exactly  made  for  one  another,  that  it  seemed 
a  shame  for  any  misunderstanding  to  come  between 
them." 

"  Still  Elfrida  played  a  dangerous  game ;  some 
men  would  never  have  forgiven  her,  even  if  she 
had  gone  down  on  her  knees  to  them  for  a  thousand 
years." 

"  I  really  cannot  see  that  she  was  so  much  to 
blame.  It  was  an  error  of  judgment,  perhaps,  on  her 
part  to  try  such  an  experiment  on  a  simple,  straight- 
forward nature  like  Le  Mesurier's ;  she  might  have 
found  some  other  way  of  testing  his  attachment ;  but 
I  do  not  see  that  she  was  guilty  of  any  crime.  You 
must  take  into  consideration  the  fact  that  she  had 
been  so  much  run  after  for  her  money,  that  she  found 
it  difficult — in  fact,  almost  impossible — to  believe  in 
disinterested  affection  without  some  conclusive 
proof." 

"  My  dear  Mr.  Cartwright,  did  you  ever  meet  a 
man  yet  who  would  forgive  his  guests  if  they  insisted 
on  analysing  his  wine  before  they  ventured  to  drink 


CONCLUSION. 


417 


it?  And  men  think  as  much  of  their  hearts  as  they 
do  of  their  cellars." 

"  Oh !  I  agree  with  you  that  Miss  Harland  made 
a  mistake ;  but  I  repeat  that  a  mistake  is  not  a 
crime." 

"  Elfrida,"  .cried  Lady  Silverhampton,  rising 
from  her  chair  and  going  across  the  room  to  where 
the  lovers  were  sitting  together  in  an  alcove,  "  Mr. 
Cartwright  and  I  have  been  talking  about  you  and 
singing  songs  of  joy  because  you  and  Jack  have 
made  it  up  with  each  other.  I  think  it  is  lovely 
to  quarrel  and  make  it  up  with  people  you  really 
like !  It  is  like  putting  a  bit  of  bread  into  cham- 
pagne to  make  it  fizzy  again.  If  I  had  my  way,  I 
should  keep  putting  bits  of  bread  into  my  cham- 
pagne at  a  party,  till  I  turned  it  into  a  regular  poul- 
tice ;  and  I  should  quarrel  with  Silverhampton 
every  morning,  and  make  it  up  every  afternoon. 
But  somehow  I  never  do  get  my  own  way,  so  my 
champagne  and  my  husband  alike  remain  flat  and 
stale." 

"  Jack  and  I  are  going  to  begin  all  over  again, 
and  not  make  any  of  the  mistakes  we  made  before. 
It  is  like  a  game  at  Halma  when  the  board  has  been 
upset :  we  are  not  going  to  try  to  put  the  pieces  back 
in  their  places,  but  we  are  going  to  begin  a  fresh 
game  altogether." 

"  Oh,  how  lovely !  I  wish  Silverhampton  and  I 
could  begin  a  fresh  game,  it  would  be  such  fun! 
Don't  you  think  we  might?  You  see,  I  might  mend 
his  stockings  for  him  and  call  him  '  my  dear,'  and 
listen  when  he  was  talking;  and  he  might  knock  me 
down  and  trample  upon  me  every  time  I  spoke.  I'll 
suggest  it  to  him ;  it  would  make  such  a  nice  change, 
and  I  do  adore  change  and  variety." 


41 8  A   DOUBLE   THREAD. 

"  Joking  apart,  it  is  really  rather  nice  to  make  a 
fresh  start  sometimes,"  said  Elfrida. 

"  Yes,  you  are  right,"  agreed  the  rector,  who  had 
joined  the  group  ;  "  new  surroundings — or  fresh  ways 
of  looking  at  old  ones — give  one  the  chance  of  put- 
ting on  new  virtues  and  of  throwing  off  old  faults." 

Elfrida  sighed.  "  It  must  be  awful  to  be  too  old 
to  make  a  fresh  start." 

"  No  one  is  too  old  for  that,"  Jack  corrected  her ; 
"  until  the  day  of  one's  death  there  is  always  the 
chance  of  beginning  life  over  again." 

"  And  even  a  better  chance  the  day  afterwards," 
added  Philip  Cartwright. 


THE    END. 


D.  APPLETON   AND  COMPANY'S   PUBLICATIONS. 
BY   A.  CONAN   DOYLE. 

Uniform  edition,     izmo.     Cloth,  $1.50  per  volume. 

/I  DUET,  WITH  AN  OCCASIONAL  CHORUS. 

•*1  Dr.  Doyle  shows  a  new  phase  of  his  fine  talent  in  this  book.  As 
a  story  of  wedded  love  it  has  an  idyllic  character  which  will  appeal  to 
every  reader  not  devoid  of  healthy  sentiment.  As  an  adroit  interpretation 
of  a  true  philosophy  of  wedded  lite  the  story  contains  illustrations  and  pithy 
sayings  which  will  enlist  the  interest  of  women  and  men  alike.  As  a  stc>ry 
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the  author  contrives  to  introduce  ol  historic  scenes  in  Westminster  Abbey, 
of  St.  Olaf's  Church,  the  banal-place  of  Pepys,  and  of  the  home  of  Thomas 
Carlyle. 

T  TNCLE  BERN  AC.     A  Romance  of  the  Empire. 

C-X      "  Simple,  clear,  and   well   defined.  .  .  .  Spirited   in  movement  all  the  way 

through.  ...  A  fine  example  of  clear  analytical  force."—  Boston  Herald. 
"  From  the  opening  pages  the  clear  and  energetic  telling  of  the  story  never  falters 
and  our  attention  never  flags."— London  Observer. 

E  EXPLOITS  OF  BRIGADIER  GERARD. 
A  Romance  of  the  Life  of  a  Typical  Napoleonic  Sol- 
dier. 

"Good,  stirring  tales  are  they.  .  .  .  Remind  one  of  those  adventures  indulged  in 
by  'The  Three  Musketeers .'  .  .  .  Written  with  a  dash  and  swing  that  here  and  there 
carry  one  away." — New  York  Mail  and  Express* 

DODNEY  STONE. 

•*-    *•    A  notable  and  very  brilliant  work  of  genius." — London  Speaker. 

"  Dr.  Doyle's  novel  is  crowded  with  an  amazing  amount  of  incident  and  excite- 
ment. .  .  .  He  does  not  write  history,  but  shows  us  the  human  side  of  his  great  men, 
living  and  moving  in  an  atmosphere  charged  with  the  spirit  of  the  hard-living,  hard- 
fighting  Anglo-Saxon."— New  York  Critic. 

DOUND    THE  RED  LAMP. 

Being  Facts  and  Fancies  of  Medical  Life. 

"  A  strikingly  realistic  and  decidedly  original  contribution  to  modem  literature."— 
Boston  Saturday  Evening  Gaztttt, 

THE  STARK  MUNRO  LETTERS. 

•*•       Being  a  Series  of  Twelve  Letters  written  by  STARK  MUNRO,  M.  P., 
to  his  friend  and  former  fellow-student,  Herbert  Swanborough,  of 
Lowell,  Massachusetts,  during  the  years  1881-1884. 

"  Cullingworth.  ...  a  much  more  interesting  creation  than  Sherlock  Holmes,  and 
I  pray  Dr.  Doyle  to  give  us  more  of  \\\m,"~  Richard  le  Gallienne,  in  the  London  Star. 

D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY,  NEW  YORK. 


T 


D.  APPLETON   AND  COMPANY'S   PUBLICATIONS. 
BY  S.  R.  CROCKETT. 

Uniform  edition.     Each,  izmo,  cloth,  $1.50. 

E     STANDARD    BEARER.       An    Historical 
Romance. 

"  Mr.  Crockett's  book  is  distinctly  one  of  the  books  of  the  year.  Five  months  of 
1898  have  passed  without  bringing  to  the  reviewers'  desk  anything  to  be  compared 
with  it  in  beauty  of  description,  convincing  characterization,  absorbing  plot  and  humoi- 
ons  appeal.  The  freshness  and  sweet  sincerity  of  the  tale  are  most  invigorating,  and 
that  the  book  will  be  very  much  read  there  is  no  possible  doubt."—  Baton  Budget. 


^IT 

•*• 


"The  book  will  move  to  tears,  provoke  to  laughter,  stir  the  blood,  and  evoke  hero- 
isms of  history,  making  the  reading  of  it  a  delight  and  the  memory  of  it  a  stimulus  and 
a  joy." — New  York  Evangelist. 

T  ADS'   LOVE.     Illustrated. 

"It  seems  to  us  that  there  is  in  this  latest  product  much  of  the  realism  of  per- 
sonal experience.  However  modified  and  disguised,  it  is  hardly  possible  to  think  that 
the  writer's  personality  does  not  present  itself  in  Saunders  McQuhirr.  .  .  .  Rarely  has 
the  author  drawn  more  truly  from  life  than  in  the  cases  of  Nance  and  'the  Hempie'; 
never  more  typical  Scotsman  of  the  humble  sort  than  the  farmer  Peter  Chrysue.'' — 
London  Atkenieum. 


c 


'LEG    KELLY,   ARAB    OF    THE    CITY.     His 

Progress  and  Adventures.     Illustrated. 

"A  masterpiece  which  Mark  Twain  himself  has  never  rivaled.  .  .  .  If  there  ever  was 
an  ideal  character  in  fiction  it  is  this  heroic  ragamuffin." — London  Daily  Chronicle. 

"  In  no  one  of  his  books  does  Mr.  Crockett  give  us  a  brighter  or  more  graphic 
picture  of  contemporary  Scotch  life  than  in  'Cleg  Kelly.'  .  .  .  It  is  one  of  the  great 
books." — Boston  Daily  Advertiser. 


B 


OG-MYRTLE  AND  PEAT.     Third  edition. 


'  Here  are  idyls,  epics,  dramas  of  human  life,  written  in  words  that  thrill  and 
burn.  .  .  .  Each  is  a  poem  that  has  an  immortal  flavor.  They  are  fragments  of  the 
author's  early  dreams,  too  bright,  too  gorgeous,  too  full  of  the  blood  of  rubies  and  the 
life  of  diamonds  to  be  caught  and  held  palpitating  in  expression's  grasp."— Boston 

"Hardly  a  sketch  amnng  them  all  that  will  not  afford  pleasure  to  the  reader  for 
its  genial  humor,  artistic  local  coloring,  and  admirable  portrayal  of  character." — Boston 
Home  Journal. 


T 


'HE  LILAC  SUNBONNET.     Eighth  edition. 


'  A  love  story,  pure  and  simple,  one  of  the  old  fashioned,  wholesome,  sun- 
shiny kind,  with  a  pure-minded,  sound-hearted  hero,  and  a  heroine  who  is  merely  a 
good  and  beautiful  woman;  and  if  any  other  love  story  hall  so  sweet  has  been  written 
this  year  it  has  escaped  our  notice." — New  York  Times. 

"The  general  conception  of  the  story,  the  motive  of  which  is  the  growth  of  love 
between  the  young  chief  and  heroine,  is  delineated  with  a  sweetness  and  a  freshness, 
a  naturalness  and  a  certainty,  which  places  '  The  Lilac  Sunbonnet '  among  the  best 
stories  of  the  time." — New  York  Mail  and  Express. 


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D.  APPLETON   AND  COMPANY'S  PUBLICATIONS. 
NOVELS    BY    HALL    CAINE. 

Uniform  edition.    Each,  izmo,  cloth. 

THE   CHRISTIAN.     $1.50. 

-I  "Though  the  theme  is  old,  Mr.  Caine  has  worked  it  up  with  a  passion  and 
power  "that  make  it  new  again.  .  .  .  Can  not  fail  to  thrill  even  the  most  care- 
less reader."—  New  York  Heraid. 

"  None  who  read  it  will  gainsay  its  power  and  effectiveness."  —  New  York  Times. 

"  Its  strength  grasps  you  at  the  beginning  and  holds  you  to  the  end.  There  is  in  it 
something  of  the  fervor  of  true  prophecy."—  Chicago  Journal. 

"  A  book  of  wonderful  power  and  force."  —  Brooklyn  Eagle. 

"  The  public  is  hardly  prepared  for  so  remarkable  a  performance  as  '  The  Christian.' 
...  A  permanent  addition  to  English  literature.  .  .  .  Above  and  beyond  any  popu- 
larity that  is  merely  temporary."—  Boston  Herald. 


F 


'E  MANXMAN.     $1.50. 

'  Mr.  Caine  has  written  well  and  nobly."— Boston  Herald. 


"  May  easily  challenge  comparison  with  the  best  novels  of  the  latter  part  of 
the  century."  —  San  Francisco  Call. 

"  Hall  Caine  has  the  art  of  being  human  and  humane,  and  his  characters  have  the 
strength  of  elemental  things.  In  '  The  Manxman  '  he  handles  large  human  questions  — 
the  questions  of  lawful  and  lawless  love."—  New  York  Commercial  Advertiser. 

'"The  Manxman'  is  more  than  a  good  story;  it  is  a  great  novel."  —  Philadelphia 
Prtss. 

^pHE  DEEMSTER.     $1.50. 

-*  (New  copyright  edition,  revised  by  the  author.) 

"Hall  Caine  has  already  given  us  some  very  strong  and  fine  work,  and  'The 
Deemster'  is  a  story  of  unusual  power.  .  .  .  Certain  passages  and  chapters  have  an 
intensely  dramatic  grasp,  and  hold  the  fascinated  reader  with  a  force  rarely  excited 
nowadays  in  literature."  —  The  Critic. 

THE  BONDMAN.     $1.50. 

•*  (New  copyright  edition,  revised  by  the  author.) 

"A  story  of  Iceland  and  Icelanders  at  an  early  era.  Our  author  throws  a  charm 
about  the  homes  and  people  he  describes  which  will  win  the  interest  and  care  of  every 
reader.  Their  simple  lives  and  legends,  which  shaped  and  directed  them,  take  tho 
reader  clear  away  from  the  sensational  and  feverish  and  unhealthy  romance  and  give 
the  mind  a  rest.  —  Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 


F 

C 


E  SCAPEGOAT.     $1.50. 

(New  copyright  edition,  revised  by  the  author.) 


APT'N  DAVY'S  HONEYMOON.     $1.00. 

leasant  to  meet  the  author  of  '  The  Deemster  '  in  a  brightly 
ry  like  this.  ...  It  shows  the  same  observation  of  Manx 
e  same  artistic  skill."  —  Philadelphia  Times. 

LITTLE  MANX   NATION.     $1.00. 


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H 


NOVELS   BY   MAARTEN    MAARTENS. 
Each,  nmo,  cloth,  $1.50. 

ER  MEMOR  Y.     With  Photogravure  Portrait. 

After  Maarten  Maartens's  long  silence  this  new  example  of  his  fine  literary 
art  will  be  received  with  peculiar  interest.  He  offers  in  this  book  a  singularly  delicate 
and  sympathetic  study  of  character. 

"  Maarten  Maartens  took  us  all  by  storm  some  time  ago  with  his  fine  story  chris- 
tened 'God's  Fool."  He  established  himself  at  once  in  our  affections  as  a  unique  crea- 
ture who  had  something  to  say  and  knew  how  to  say  it  in  the  most  fascinating  way. 
He  is  a  serious  story  writer,  who  sprang  into  prominence  when  he  first  put  his  pen  to 
paper,  and  who  has  ever  since  kept  his  work  up  to  the  standard  of  excellence  which  he 
raised  in  the  beginning." — New  York  Herald. 

*J^HE   GREATER   GLORY.     A  Story  of  High  Life. 

"Until  the  Appletons  discovered  the  merits  of  Maarten  Maartens,  the  fore- 
most of  Dutch  novelists,  it  is  doubtful  if  many  American  readers  knew  that  there  were 
Dutch  novelists.  His  '  God's  Fool'  and  '  Joost  Avelingh  '  made  for  him  an  American 
reputation.  To  our  mind  this  work  is  his  best.  .  .  .  He  is  a  master  of  epigram,  an 
artist  in  description,  a  prophet  in  insight." — Boston  Advertiser, 

"  It  would  take  several  columns  t<>  give  any  adequate  idea  of  the  superb  way  in 
which  the  Dutch  novelist  has  developed  his  theme  and  wrought  out  one  of  the  most 
impressive  snries  of  the  period.  ...  It  belongs  to  the  small  class  of  novels  which  one 
can  no:  afford  to  neglect.  —Han  Francisco  Chronicle. 

"  Maarten  Maartens  stands  head  and  shoulders  above  the  average  novelist  of  the 
day  in  intellectual  subtlety  and  imaginative  power."—  Boston  Beacon. 


G 


OD'S  FOOL. 


'  Throughout  there  is  an  epigrammatic  force  which  would  make  palatable  a  less 
interesting  story  of  human  lives  or  one  less  deftly  told." — London  Saturday  Review. 

"  A  remarkable  work."—  New  York  Times. 

"  Maarten  Maartens  has  secured  a  firm  footing  in  the  eddies  of  current  literature. 
.  .  .  Pathos  deepens  into  tragedy  in  the  thrilling  story  of '  God's  Fool/  "— Philadel- 
phia Ledtrer. 

"Its  preface  alone  stamps  the  author  as  one  of  the  leading  English  novelists  of 
to-day." — Boston  Daily  Advertiser. 

"A  story  of  remarkable  interest  and  point." — New  York  Observer. 


J 


OOST  AVELINGH. 


"Aside  from  the  masterly  handling  of  the  principal  characters  and  general  in- 
st  in  the  story,  the  series  of  pictures  of  Dutch  life  give  the  book  a  charm  peculiarly 

its  own."  —  Niw  York  Herald. 

"  Can  be  heartily  recommended,  both  from  a  moral  and  artistic  standpoint."  —  New 

York  Matl  and  Express. 

"  So  unmistakably  good  as  to  induce  the  hope  that  an  acquain'ance  with  the  Dutch 

literature  of  fiction  may  soon  become  more  general  among  us."  —  London  Morning 

Post. 


A  novel  of 


a  very  high  type.     At  once  strongly  realistic  and  powerfully  ideal- 
Literary  &*&. 


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D 


"A   BOOK   THAT   WILL   LIVE." 

AVID  HARUM.     A  Story  of  American  Life.     By 
EDWARD  NOYES  WESTCOTT.     i2mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

"  Mr  Westcott  has  done  for  central  New  York  what  Mr.  Cable,  Mr.  Page,  and 
Mr.  Harris  have  done  for  different  parts  of  the  South,  and  what  Miss  Jewett  and  Miss 
Wilkins  are  doing  for  New  England,  and  Mr.  Hamlin  Garland  for  the  West.  .  .  . 
'  David  Harum '  is  a  masterly  delineation  of  an  American  type.  .  .  .  Here  is  life  with 
all  its  joys  and  sorrows.  .  .  .  David  Harum  lives  in  these  pages  as  he  will  live  in  the 
mind  of  the  reader.  .  .  .  He  deserves  to  be  known  by  all  good  Americans ;  he  is  one 
of  them  in  boundless  energy,  in  large-heartedness,  in  shrewdness,  and  in  humor." — 
The  Critic. 

"  Thoroughly  a  pure,  original,  and  fresh  American  type.  David  Harum  is  a 
character  whose  qualities  of  mind  and  heart,  eccentricities,  and  dry  humor  will  win  for 
his  creator  notable  distinction.  Buoyancy,  life,  and  cheerfulness  are  dominant  notes. 
In  its  vividness  and  force  the  story  is  a  strong,  fresh  picture  of  American  life.  Original 
and  true,  it  is  worth  the  same  distinction  which  is  accorded  the  genre  pictures  of 
peculiar  types  and  places  sketched  by  Mr.  George  W.  Cable,  Mr.  Joel  Chandler 
Harris,  Mr.  Thomas  Nelson  Page,  Miss  Wilkins,  Miss  Jewett,  Mr.  Garland,  Miss 
French,  Miss  Murfree,  Mr.  Gilbert  Parker,  Mr.  Owen  Wister,  and  Bret  Harte.  .  .  . 
A  pretty  love  story  also  adds  to  the  attractiveness  of  the  book,  that  will  be  appreciated 
at  once  by  every  one  who  enjoys  real  humor,  strong  character,  true  pictures  of  life,  and 
work  that  is  '  racy  of  the  soil.'  " — Boston  Herald. 

"  Mr.  Westcott  has  created  a  new  and  interesting  type.  .  .  .  The  character  sketch- 
ing and  building,  so  far  as  David  Harum  is  concerned,  is  well-nigh  perfect.  The  book 
is  wonderfully  bright,  readable,  and  graphic."— A/ew  York  Times. 

"The  main  character  ought  to  become  familiar  to  thousands  of  readers,  and  will 
probably  take  his  place  in  time  beside  Joel  Chandler  Harris's  and  Thomas  Nelson 
Page's  and  Miss  Wilkins's  creations." — Chicago  Times-Herald. 

"  We  give  Edward  Noyes  Westcott  his  true  place  in  American  letters— placing 
him  as  a  humorist  next  to  Mark  Twain,  as  a  master  of  dialect  above  Lowell,  as  a 
descriptive  writer  equal  to  Eret  Harte,  and,  on  the  whole,  as  a  novelist  on  a  par  with 
the  best  of  those  who  live  and  have  their  being  in  the  heart  of  hearts  of  American 
readers.  If  the  author  is  dead— lamentable  fact — his  book  will  live." — Philadelphia 
Item. 

"  True,  strong,  and  thoroughly  alive,  with  a  humor  like  that  of  Abraham  Lincoln 
and  a  nature  as  sweet  at  the  core.  The  spirit  of  the  book  is  genial  and  wholesome,  and 
the  love  story  is  in  keeping  with  it.  ...  The  book  adds  one  more  to  the  interesting 
list  of  native  fiction  destined  to  live,  portraying  certain  localities  and  types  of  American 
life  and  manners."— Boston  Literary  World. 

"  A  notable  contribution  to  those  sectional  studies  of  American  life  by  which  our 
literature  has  been  so  greatly  enriched  in  the  past  generation.  ...  A  work  of  unusual 
merit."— Philadelphia  Press. 

"  One  of  the  few  distinct  and  living  types  in  the  American  gallery." — St.  Louit 
Globe- Democrat. 

"  The  quaint  character  of '  David  Harum '  proves  to  be  an  inexhaustible  source  of 
amusement.— Chicago  Evening  Post. 

"  It  would  be  hard  to  say  wherein  the  author  could  have  bettered  the  portrait  he 
sets  before  us." —Providence  Journal. 

"  Full  of  wit  and  sweetness." — Baltimore  Herald. 

"  Merits  the  heartiest  and  most  unequivocal  praise.  ...  It  is  a  pleasure  to  call  the 
reader's  attention  to  this  strong  and  most  original  novel,  a  novel  that  is  a  decided  and 
most  enduring  addition  to  American  literature." — Boston  Saturday  Evening  Gazette. 


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L 


TWO   SUCCESSFUL   AMERICAN   NOVELS. 

AT1TUDE  19°.  A  Romance  of  the  West  Indies  in 
the  Year  of  our  Lord  1820.  Being  a  faithful  account  and  true, 
of  the  painful  adventures  of  the  Skipper,  the  Bo's'n,  the  Smith, 
the  Mate,  and  Cynthia.  By  Mrs.  SCHUYLER  CROWNINSHIKLD. 
Illustrated.  I2mo.  Cloth,  $1.50. 

"  '  Latitude  19°  '  is  a  novel  of  incident,  of  the  open  air,  of  the  sea,  the  shore,  the 
mountain  eyrie,  and  of  breathing,  living  entities,  who  deal  with  Natuie  at  first  hand.  .  .  . 
The  adventures  described  are  peculiarly  novel  and  interesting.  .  .  .  Packed  with 
incidents,  infused  with  humor  and  wit,  and  faithful  to  the  types  introduced,  this  book 
will  surely  appeal  to  the  large  audience  already  won,  and  beget  new  friends  among 
those  who  believe  in  fiction  that  is  healthy  without  being  maudlin,  and  is  strong  with- 
out losing  the  truth."— .Vew  York  Herald. 

"  A  story  filled  with  rapid  and  exciting  action  from  the  first  page  to  the  last.  A 
fecundity  of  invention  that  never  lags,  and  a  judiciously  used  vein  of  humor." — Tkt 
Critic. 

"  A  volume  of  deep,  undeniable  charm.  A  unique  book  from  a  fresh,  sure,  vigorous 
pen." — Boston  Journal. 

"  Adventurous  and  romantic  enough  to  satisfy  the  most  exacting  reader.  .  .  . 
Abounds  in  situations  which  make  the  blood  run  cold,  and  yet,  full  of  surprises  as  it  is, 
one  is  continually  amazed  by  the  plausibility  of  the  main  incidents  of  the  narrative. 
...  A  very  successful  effort  to  portray  the  sort  of  adventures  that  might  have  taken 
place  in  the  West  Indies  seventy  five  or  eighty  years  ago.  .  .  .  Very  entertaining  witn 
Its  dry  humor." — Boston  Herald. 


A 


HERALD  OF  THE  WEST.  An  American 
Story  of  1811-1815.  By  J.  A.  AI.TSHELER,  author  of  "A 
Soldier  of  Manhattan  "  and  "  The  Sun  of  Saratoga."  I2mo. 
Cloth,  $1.50. 

"  '  A  Herald  of  the  West '  is  a  romance  of  our  history  which  has  not  been  surpassed 
in  dramatic  force,  vivid  coloring,  and  historical  interest.  ...  In  these  days  when  the 
flush  of  war  has  only  just  passed,  the  book  ought  to  find  thousands  of  readers,  for  it 
teaches  patriotism  without  intolerance,  and  it  shows,  what  the  war  with  Spain  has 
demonstrated  anew,  the  power  of  the  American  neople  when  they  are  deeply  roused  by 
some  great  wrong." — San  Francisco  Chronicle. 

"  The  book  throughout  is  extremely  well  written.  It  is  condensed,  vivid,  pictu- 
resque. ...  A  rattling  good  story,  and  unrivaled  in  fiction  for  its  presentation  of  the 
American  feeling  toward  England  during  our  second  conflict." — Boston  Herala. 

"  Holds  the  attention  continuously.  .  .  .  The  book  abounds  in  thrilling  attractions. 
...  It  is  a  solid  and  dignified  acquisition  to  the  romantic  literature  of  our  own  coun- 
try, built  around  facts  and  real  persons." — Chicago  Timet-Herald 

"  In  a  style  that  is  strong  and  broad,  the  author  of  this  timely  novel  takes  up  a 
nascent  period  of  our  national  history  and  founds  upon  it  a  story  of  absorbing  interest.' 
—Philadelphia  Item. 

"  Mr.  Altsheler  has  given  us  an  accurate  as  well  as  picturesque  portrayal  of  the 
social  and  political  conditions  which  prevailed  in  the  republic  in  the  era  made  £—• 
by  the  second  war  with  Great  Britain." — Brooklyn  Eagie. 


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